


Uan Beag | Little Lamb

by kindauthor



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Claire doesn't exist but it's okay because Willa does!, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Retelling, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 72,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindauthor/pseuds/kindauthor
Summary: Willa was only going on a vacation to step away from her life for a brief moment. It was never her plan to completely escape to a different time entirely.A retold “Outlander” fic because I refuse to watch past episode seven. Canon-adjacent storyline, but knowledge of the show isn't necessary!
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Original Character(s), Jamie Fraser/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 144
Kudos: 164





	1. 1 | Henge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willa is recommended Craigh na Dun as a good choice to visit for her first morning in Inverness.

Inverness seemed like the best course of action, all things considered.

I had five years of pain to put behind me, and it only seemed fair to return to a place that held happy memories. The last time I had stepped foot in the UK was years before mom got sick, before cancer spread through her body and wrecked her from the inside out. Of course, during that time, no one ever told me dad would die too.

It took quite a bit of my mental energy to decide that it was time to allow myself to fully grieve. No one knew what to say to a barely twenty-four year old who lost both her parents.

I had family, the Thompsons just weren’t very close. It was simple to accept heartfelt apologies at two wakes and then move on. Getting affairs in order past both my parents’ funerals was more difficult, navigating life as an orphan was unknown territory I really wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemies. So yes, now felt like as good of a time as any to travel back to the location of our last happy family vacation.

Dad loved genealogy, it was something he was passionate about until the end, and he loved regaling mom and I with all the tales he could find about the Thompsons and their move from Scotland to America. Of course, as it being one of the most popular names in the United States, Scotland, and the United Kingdom as a whole, there were so many branches it took too many hours of research to find their direct line. All I really knew at the end of the day, when they visited almost a decade ago — that there had been ties here during the Jacobite rebellion.

I was never the best in history class.

The road winding down to Inverness was familiar in a warm way I couldn’t place, but at least my chest didn’t feel nearly as tight as it had in the past years. The inn and bed and breakfast combo I chose was run by a little family, with a kind woman who handed over a key for a room upstairs and insisted that I at least come back down for dinner recommendations later.

I didn’t — however — the flight caught up with me in more ways than simple exhaustion. As I laid on top of the slightly dusty duvet, staring up a weathered ceiling that very well could have been there since the 50s, I wondered if I had made the right decision — really in anything since the funerals.

The dusty duvet won in the end, and I jolted awake at an ungodly hour to the sun beaming past the mountains and directly into the inn window as the owner outside vacuumed. I rolled over with a tiny groan and checked my cellphone, seeing it was barely seven in the morning and then rubbed my face.

It only took a few splashes of the freezing cold water coming out of the tarnished taps to wake me fully up, then I was stumbling into a thick cream sweater and a pair of wide-legged auburn colored trousers. I’d bought them on a whim over two years ago and never fully gotten a change to wear them, at least now seemed as good of a time as any.

The sun didn’t last by the time I made my way downstairs. There was a fine rainy mist dusting the windows as I rounded the corner of the stairs and nearly ran straight into the owner — Mrs. Bairnsly — who looked up at me startled but then smiled.

“Ah, you’re awake, dear. You look like you slept well!”

I gave her a polite half-smile and nodded. “I did, thank you.”

“Well, I’ve just put more tea on but I can have breakfast for you too, come on to the kitchen. I’ve kept some oatmeal warm for you.” She didn’t wait for a response, instead hurrying quickly over to a double-hinged door and pushing it open, ushering me through to a small room with a round wooden table and another doorway that lead to a kitchen just visible.

I sat down, smiling slightly as Mrs. Bairnsly doted on me. It was nice, albeit just a little awkward, mostly I just wasn’t quite sure how to thank the woman as she slid a warm bowl of oatmeal with a light layer of butter and brown sugar on the top in front of me and then poured me a steaming mug of tea. She reminded me of the vague memories I had left of my grandmother, also gone, but that memory was enough to make my chest pang again.

“So, do you have plans for today, dear?” Mrs. Bairnsly finally took a moment to sit down, smiling at me expectantly.

I pushed the oatmeal around carefully, piling up an acceptable bite onto the silver spoon and then raising my head. Everything in me was screaming not to be rude, to be cautious and courteous, so I finished the gummy bite and then a sip of piping tea that scorched my as it went down. “Actually, I was really just going to wander around. I rented a car in case I wanted to drive, but I don’t have a plan.”

Mrs. Bairnsly’s expression wavered. “If you don’t mind me askin’ — why are you here all alone?”

If my face was a puzzle, the pieces would have been worn around the edges from how many times I carefully rearranged my expression. “Just a vacation,” the words sounded hollow, tinged with sadness I couldn’t shake no matter how many tears I shed. “I’ve actually been here once before years ago with my parents, but they both recently passed away.” My voice faded at the end, the words hanging in the air as the older woman across from me floundered for something to say.

She finally settled on tentatively grabbing my free hand and giving it one, strong squeeze. “You know, I believe you’d _love_ a place just outside of town.” She stood, letting go for the briefest of moments to grab a pamphlet from a table and then flip it over to the back. On it, she scribbled something, and then slid it across the table to me. “ _Craigh na Dun_ , really just a short drive from here.”

I looked down at the crudely drawn map she had labeled for me, up the road, straight into the forest, on the hill overlooking the older part of Inverness. I smiled as I took another sip of the tea.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bairnsly.” Looking down at my breakfast, I smiled for a second and then raised my head again. “It sounds beautiful, especially on a day like today.”

“Just take a coat, dear.” She patted my arm as she stood up again. “What is it you said you did?”

I faltered just before I took another bite of oatmeal. “I went to school for physical therapy, but I used to help my mother in her accounting firm.” Clearing my throat, I lowered the spoon again. “And please, Willa is fine.”

Mrs. Bairnsly gave me another kind smile before she was off again, bustling to continue on with the chores the inn provided her. I could finally hear some other movement stirring from the backrooms — probably her husband, someone I’d only seen in a photo on the booking website, but not in person yet. I didn’t linger, instead finishing up my food and carefully stepping into the kitchen to put the dishes up myself.

When I was done, I trudged back upstairs and gathered my coat, a warm forest green wool coat that made me a little giddy every time I tried it on. It certainly stopped the harsh and bone-chilling wind the moment I stepped outside. Around the corner was a little gravel lot for any visitors to park, and I unlocked the rental I had gotten after landing in Edinburgh and slid in.

With the hand-drawn map, I carefully pulled out onto the road, keeping my eye out through the mist of the morning and the rain. I nearly missed the turn to the hill, but at the last second skirted by an old half-fallen fence.

At the top of the hill, I parked the car, stepping out as grass and rock crunched under my boots. I left everything inside except for my coat, it wasn’t like anyone would be calling anytime soon.

Mrs. Bairnsly was right, Craigh na Dun was stunning.

The rocks were arranged in a circle, with one tall forked one standing in the dead center — for the most part. It was slightly askew, as were the others as I walked past, careful not to disturb anything. This place screamed out that it was sacred, the kind of place that you didn’t just wander into without having an immense amount of respect.

I came to a stop in front of the center rock and looked up at it, reaching out to press my palm against it’s cool and weather-worn surface. The mist was making my hair frizz up even more than normal and the weather seemed to turn bad for a moment. A piece of hair blew into my eyes, the wind whipping faster as I stepped away from the stone suddenly. It stopped, the rain returning to a fine mist as I stared at the stone in wonder.

My hand felt like it had been pricked by a thousand needles. I flipped it over and stared at the skin, unmarred, just chilled to the bone from the rain that was returning heavier. Pulling my coat closer, I turned. The rental car wasn’t far away — as beautiful as the stones were, this felt wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

A crack of thunder echoed off the mountains and I jumped, stumbling back a step and landing hard on the stone. Too quickly lightning struck, then more thunder — but it was rapid, it wasn’t the storm.

I gasped, falling against the stone as the world felt like it was being ripped away underneath me. It was the tactile feeling of being swept up in a strong current, or the punch to the gut I felt watching the surgeon round the corner to the private waiting room in the final hospital.

Drops of rain were what woke me first, slumped against the stone as I stared up at the sky. I stumbled up, my coat soaked through the first layer as I steadied myself. There were shouts and I turned my head just in time to see a flash of red and men running past with guns.

One slowed and raised his weapon towards me.

I dropped to my knees just before he could get the musket fired. The bullet ricocheted off the stone behind me, pinging as it fell into the grass by my feet. Someone yelled at him, British accent thick as he ran forward.

I was shaking like a leaf when I finally looked back up, watching in horror as men dropped to one knee and fired shots at others, kilts and redcoats swirling together in a blur between rain.

Pushing myself up, I crept around the stone, breathing hard as I tried to see past the grass. It seemed taller now, overgrown and wild, the well-worn path mixed with rock gone that led me to Craigh na Dun in the first place. Kneeling in a patch, I felt my stomach roll once, then turned, all the oatmeal and tea coming up from my stomach and landing in the wet grass.

The sound of more footfalls made me scramble back, wiping at my face with the soaked sleeve of my coat as I ducked around the side of the center stone. One of the men was breathless, red in the face as he screamed at two others to find and kill “every highlander you see.”

I inched backward, holding my breath as I skirted around the back of the stone and then bolted upright again. The same man shouted something at my back, but I just tucked my arms around myself, lowering myself as I ran forward, past the stones and into the thicket of the forest. Everything was overgrown, wild, and looked like it hadn’t been touched by civilization for years. My brain couldn’t process much, just that I was in danger if I stayed anywhere near the henge and the men who shot first and asked questions later.

My boots slipped, not meant for running on wet underbrush, the ground sliding out from under me as I scrambled to get back up again, landing hard on my hip and biting down on my tongue to mask the scream of pain.

It didn’t matter, the sound of me fumbling through the brush had alerted the nearest men and one of them appeared at the crest of the hill to the right of me, holding his gun ahead.

“Stop! By command of the British Army!”

I skittered backward as he leveled his gun at me and fired off a shot.

The arm of my jacket was slowly turning reddish-brown. I turned my head, staring at where the bullet had grazed me, cutting through two layers of clothing before it embedded itself in the log just next to my body.

“Are ya’ _daft_?” A man grabbed me by my uninjured arm, jerking me up from the ground as he shoved me behind him. “Go!”

I stumbled forward, breaking out into a run again as he shouted something at the redcoat and then fired his own, smaller gun. I didn’t make it very far before he caught back up to me, his hand coming down on my arm again, harder, grasping at me and jerking me back to look up at him.

He was dressed in a kilt, dirt smearing his features as he stared down at me in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

I didn’t let him ask one of the thousand questions flickering past his gaze. Instead, I shoved him with my shoulder, pain jolting my arm as the motion caught him off guard and pushing him out of the way of another bullet from another flash of red. If time could slow, I could have sworn I watched the bullet fly directly between the two of us, narrowly missing the spot where he had just been.

It seemed good enough for the man, he turned, fired another shot, then drug me deeper into the woods, over rocks and past rotting logs as the sky seemed to grow darker and then open up to a complete downpour. The adrenaline running through my veins was dying off, replaced with sheer panic as I followed the stranger to a horse.

He turned and looked at me. “Up.”

I threw my right arm over the saddle and then hoisted myself up, grabbing onto the reigns with one hand as he quickly joined me. He took them from me and then spun the horse around. The smell of him made my stomach churn again, solidifying that whatever this was, wherever and _whenever_ this was — it was real.

He said something to me, barking foreign words in my ear as I jolted on top of the horse. I turned slightly, giving him a wide-eyed look as he frowned and then rephrased in a thick Scottish accent. “Who _are_ you?”

“Willa.” I stuttered out my own name, staring at him in confusion. “What is this? What’s happening?”

He said something else, spitting the word as he forced me to turn my head back around, puzzled but grateful. I gripped onto the horses’ mane, staring down at the blood seeping up through my coat. Pressing one hand against it, I sucked in a breath, trying to keep my center of gravity low like I had been taught so many times on horseback. It saved me enough grief that by the time the rain began to lighten and the sky was near dusk, I was only sore from keeping my balance and distance as much as I could from the man behind me.

The horse slowed, almost instinctively, in front of a small cottage and the man jumped off with a huff, grabbing my right arm and jerking me to get me to jump down. I moved my hand from the wound just long enough to stumble to my feet on the ground, staring up at him in silence. There were so many options of what could be behind the cottage door, too many of them I didn’t want to consider.

He unceremoniously kicked the door open, revealing a warm fire and four other men, one of whom stepped forward with his hand on a glinting knife at his waist.

I tried to stumble back, but the one who had brought me her jerked me forward while another quickly slammed the door shut and stood in front of it. They all barked at one another, again in a language I didn’t know or recognize, it wasn’t anything I had heard before, but the inflection and the rough rasp to each word slowly began to dawn on me.

Gaelic.

One of my father’s friends we visited on our trip to the UK was Welsh, and though many of the words of old Welsh had been lost, he knew enough that he could speak terms and phrases, reviving life back into his ancestor’s dead language. He also knew enough Gaelic to help translate just a few genealogy records my dad found and brought to him.

The man in front of the fire was looking at me curiously, his his tilted slightly as his eyes flickered over my soaked coat and then to the man who was suddenly standing in front of me.

“Who sent ya’?” He was tall, with a round face and hard eyes. His hand didn’t waver from the knife at his belt as I stood in front of him.

I glanced around the small room, shaking as I tried to form a coherent sentence. “No one. I was looking at the rocks — at Craigh na Dun — Mrs. Bairnsly told me I would —“

The man reached out and grabbed my arm, squeezing right where the bullet grazed me and causing me to shriek in pain, stumbling back as I desperately tried to free my arm again. Everything felt foreign on my tongue, but not enough that I didn’t raise my other hand, still cover in my own blood, slapping him hard across the cheek.

“Get the _fuck_ off of me!” It did the trick, shocking him enough I could stumble back two steps and press my hand back against the wound.

“ _Uan beag_ ,” the words were definitely sarcastic as the man turned his gaze back to the one who brought me here, rattling off something else in Gaelic that made him snort.

I swallowed hard, one man behind me, the one still seated in front of the fire, then another leaning on a table with a knife in his hand. I could get out of here, how many movies had I seen where people went through worse?

The largest man stepped forward again. “Not sweet language for a lass.”

“Fuck you.” I spat back at him, squaring my shoulders. “Where am I? Who are you?”

His eyes flickered over me, lingering on my pants and then my boots, his head tilting slightly. “Dougal MacKenzie,” The thickness of his accent lingered on the words. “Ya’ right, Murtagh, not British. Tha’ bastards were shootin’ at her too?”

Kilts, redcoats, the knives and old guns, everything tinged with the smell of horse shit and dirt — I didn’t want to think the words, let alone voice them — but everything logically clicked that this wasn’t the twenty-first century, let alone the nineteenth.

“She’s not a sassenach, I’ve never heard any of the King’s best speak like that.” Murtagh — the one who had rescued me from the redcoats and the one I had pushed out of the bullet’s way was speaking now.

“A what?” I looked between him and the big man — Dougal — swallowing my tongue as he stepped forward again. If my nerves hadn’t already been shattered, his insistence to keep his hand on the knife would have done it.

“Wh —“

Dougal grasped at my chin suddenly, jerking my head up so we were staring eye to eye.

“I won’t repeat myself, lass, who sent ya’?”

“No one.” I ground out the words, jerking my chin against his grip, my cheeks smashing together between his dirty fingers. “My name is Willa Thompson, I came here on vacation.” We stared at each other and my arm throbbed, silence hanging in the air until I broke it, my teeth chattering slightly. “I’m cold. Please let me go.”

“Thompson.” The way he said my last name made it sound stronger, better, “Clan Thompson out here?”

Dougal released my face and I stepped back, rubbing at my skin with the edges of my coat. Two more steps and I faltered slightly, the room spinning as I reached out to steady myself on anything. Blood dripped down the coat and I pitched forward.

The man in front of the fire stood up, the closest to me — quick enough that he caught me around the waist and half lifted, half drug me onto the stool he had just vacated.

“I told ya’, she pushed me out of the way of one of their bastard bullets,” Murtagh grumbled under his breath, looking at me from the corner as the man bent down in front of me, hands on the couple buttons still clasped on the coat.

I blinked rapidly, trying to get everything back in focus as I stared down at him.

“Let’s look at your arm there, lass.” He was the youngest out of all of them, by far, even marred by dirt and with his own bloodied shirt and kilt concealing most of himself. His fingers, however, didn’t move on the buttons until I looked down at them.

“Okay.” The word fumbled its way out of my lips. Somehow I found it hard to believe that anything could be done about the bullet wound, not in a remote cottage in the Scottish highlands sometime before the nineteenth century. The thought was nearly hysterical enough that I wanted to laugh — but the silence overwhelming the space stopped me.

He flicked both buttons open, staring at the wool blend before shaking his head and helping pull it off both my shoulders. My favorite coat landed in a heap near the fire, leaving me in just the torn sweater and my pants.

“Never seen a lass wear britches.” A rounder man finally spoke up, sucking on his teeth as he looked at me on the stool. “Wouldn’t think I’d mind it if they started.”

I swallowed hard, intensely aware of the position I was in.

“Rupert,” Dougal only had to say the other man’s name in warning, fingers tightening and loosening on the hilt of his knife. “How bad is it, Jamie?”

The man in front of me pushed at the sleeve, glancing up once as I sucked in a breath. I carefully peeled back the cream material, now soaked crimson and auburn. The skin was torn, a chunk gone of my arm, thick enough that I felt woozy all over again and swayed on the stool.

He reached up and pressed his hand against my hip — I think he meant to steady me, but the shot of pain from where I had fallen down the embankment in the forest made me jolt up again, the stool falling as I careened backward and fell against the warm bricks.

Every eye was on me as I held my injured arm against myself.

“The only option we have is take her to Colum.” Dougal spoke finally, eyeing me, “Especially if she’s ken, I don’t reckon we’d be treated as heroes if we left her out here. Scottish or not.”

I licked my lips warily. When they all began talking in Gaelic again, I ripped the cuff off the left side of the sweater and then tore it open with my teeth. The man still crouched in the floor watched me as I tied it around my arm to cover the wound. Then he rose.

Now that he was in front of me, with the fire to the side of us, I could finally see his features. His hair was red, curled and long against his face, with a strong jaw and kind — unbelievably kind — blue eyes. They reflected the flames as he took a cautious step forward, then took the edges of the cuff from my fingers and tightened it, cutting off the blood flow before tying it tightly like a tourniquet around the wound.

Swallowing, I stared up at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded once, head tilted down as he stared at me. “Thompson, ya’ said?”

I nodded, jerking my head once. “Willa.”

“Jamie.” He replied finally as the men’s Gaelic died down in the back.

“Cannae she ride?” Dougal asked, adjusting the knife finally back into its sheath.

I turned my head, leveling the large man with a glare. “Probably better than you.”

The laughter that burst from him came straight from his gut and chest, booming through the cottage as he exchanged a glance with the other men. Even Jamie, in front of me, lifted his lips in a wry smile.

“Doubt that, _uan beag_.” Dougal looked back at Jamie. “Ya’ eye doesn’t stray from her.”

Jamie nodded once. As the other men began to leave the tiny room, one of them who hadn’t spoken yet took the time to near me. He cast me a look once before stifling the fire out and pushing me forward gently, towards Jamie who had already reached the door.

I took a couple of cautious steps, then followed them back outside, the other man at my back as I watched Dougal get up onto a massive horse. I swallowed hard, looking around the forest cautiously.

“Lass,” Rupert spoke, “Redbacks are gone for now, but won’t be long. Easier to ride at night.”

The fear must have been written on my face, but I reached Jamie and his horse just as he held out a hand, low against the saddle. I ignored it, holding my arm to my body as I mirrored the same motion that got me on Murtagh’s horse earlier, throwing myself up and then straddling the saddle, sitting pin-straight just like every dressage lesson I had taken at Georgia’s best stable. Dougal raised one eyebrow, then chuckled as I jolted.

Jamie jumped up behind me, rotating his shoulder lightly before wrapping his arms around where my waist was and grabbing the reigns. One hand held them as the other grabbed my waist.

I jumped, but he pulled my back flush against his front.

“Donna want ya’ to fall, lass.” His breath was hot on my ear, voice quiet as the smell of unwashed clothes and hearty wood finally reached my nose. It was all around me, tinged with the iron-metallic of blood from us both.

I swallowed, and against my better judgment grabbed onto his forearm with my free hand, digging my fingertips into the rough fabric of his shirt as the party set off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need to explain myself for this one, I wanted desperately to watch Outlander because I love Scotland, but I can’t bring myself to harm my mental health by continuing past the marriage episode. So this is my contribution to a fandom that I’m not quite certain still exists. It’s a retold Outlander that completely removes Claire from the story (sorry!) and instead tells a different and sweeter tale of happiness for Jamie. There will be no sexual assault in this story, it’s entirely self-indulgent like most of the things I tend to write. I hope everyone enjoys!


	2. 2 | Leoch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party takes its time traveling to Castle Leoch and leaves a few bodies behind.

The gentle rocking of the horse once the terrain smoothed out was lulling me to sleep, a false sense of security enveloping me. At least, until I felt movement behind me as Jamie’s thighs squeezed, spurring the horse to keep up in the middle of the group. He was shifting around behind me and I flinched as he moved his arm.

“Careful now,” His voice was low, none of the rest of the men speaking or paying any attention to anything but the road around us.

He was doing something with the kilt and I shifted forward on the saddle away from him, jolting my arm and hip in the process and sucking in a breath. He made a disgruntled noise and pulled me backward. “‘M only covering ya’ up.”

He flipped the bundled and bunched fabric around my legs, frozen from the rain and thin fabric. My upper half would have fared better if my beloved jacket hadn’t been left in the cottage hours ago. The moment the plaid kilt swung around my shoulders, blocking out the cold and blocking in the heat coming off of his body, I relaxed.

We continued on for a few more minutes before he spoke again, his voice low, only for me “We dinna want ye to freeze before we get there.” His hot breath against my ear made the hair stand up as I stared forward, eyes wide in the moonlight. He kept speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. “How’s yer arm?”

“It hurts,” I whispered back, admitting it softly as I looked down at the slightly tinted tourniquet. I was pretty sure it had stopped bleeding about an hour ago, the lightheadedness had mostly faded into confusion about my new surroundings and what would happen whenever the horses stopped. I only knew a few things from what I heard when the other men spoke, thick gruff accents, cutting between English and Gaelic in the same sentences. They were always keeping eyes out for redcoats, warily moving through the pathways, aware that if we were ambushed it could mean the death of the six of us.

Though, after seeing the men that had chased me through the forest, I had to admit I felt safer with five Scotsmen than I would have if I had been dropped anywhere else.

He flipped the fabric further over us, shifting forward into the saddle until I could only feel him against my back, hard muscle and warmth. I tucked my arms under the makeshift cloak, pulling it against my chest and closed. The wind kept catching the parts near our legs, but it was decidedly more warm than not having it around me.

“It’ll heal.” I’m not sure if the words were supposed to be comforting, maybe in a gruff way, they settled over me as we bounced in the saddle.

After another moment, I cleared my throat. “What have they been calling me?”

“Mm?” The rumble of the noise reverberated through me until he chuckled quietly. “Ay, _uan beag_.” It sounded softer when he said it — Jamie — I had to remind myself, that was the name of the man who was nearly wrapped around me as much as his cloak was. He exhaled. “Means wee lamb.”

I couldn’t help the smile that twitched on my lips, lifting an edge of the fabric up to rub my cold nose as I tried to hide the little laugh. “Oh, now I get why they found it funny.”

“Bit ta’ much of a spitfire,” Jamie laughed, “but ye’ sweater does make ye’ look like a wee lamb, lassie.”

“If it was post-slaughter,” I muttered, looking down at the bloodstain. Fiddling with the tourniquet, I knew I shouldn’t, but I started to peel the fabric away from the wound.

He sighed hard and grabbed my hand, pulling it away from my own arm. “Ye’ll bleed out.”

“Yes, _sir_.” The sarcasm dripped from my voice as I wrapped the cloak around tightly again.

The noise that Jamie made was incredibly different than the acknowledgment earlier. I was reminded immediately that the fabric between us was shared and _attached_ to him via his kilt, slung around his hips. While one hand was on the reigns, his other that had sat by his hip crept up, cautiously touching my side, just where the bottom of my sweater met my pants.

Under the fabric and moonlight, I felt the pressure of his fingers as they touched the sweater, my breathing stuttering for a second as I fidgeted and shifted slightly. It added more pressure to my still smarting hip, but it was better than my thoughts being clouded by the man behind me, already so close and overwhelming.

There was a whistle, one of the other’s, and Jamie’s focused suddenly shifted. His touch was no longer teasing, explorative, instead he jerked me back against him, solidly holding tight as he spurred the horse forward, past two others until we were at the front where Dougal was leading. I jolted and held onto the mane again, head turned even though I couldn’t understand the rapid Gaelic back and forth between them.

The rock in front of us was tall, pointed like tail feathers on a rooster — I knew it had a name similar to it — but that wasn’t important. What was important was that as I drove through this same area a day ago, in a different time altogether, the guide I had playing over my radio had specified it was used for ambushes.

“The British are up there.” I turned and looked at Dougal, both the horses slowing to a stop as I felt Jamie shift behind me. “I swear to you on my life, they’ll ambush us if we go forward.”

Dougal tilted his head at me, glancing behind me and then whistling to signal the others to come closer. “How do you know?”

I swallowed, grasping at straws. How was I supposed to explain knowing things would happen before they actually came to pass? “I heard two of them talking — before I was shot and — “ I couldn’t think of the other man’s name — “just trust me, why would I want to be ambushed or killed?”

He shrugged one shoulder, looking towards one of the other men and then motioning to Jamie. In nearly one smooth motion, the cloak was away from me, exposing me to the cool night as Jamie nudged my thigh.

“Off ye’ go.” I swung my leg, grabbing onto the saddle before jumping down, wobbling on my feet for a moment as I stared up at him. He pulled his own gun out, nodding down at me. “Hide, lass.”

A cold shot of fear ran through me as I took a few steps backward. If none of them came back, I would be at the mercy of the British — maybe they would technically be history’s winner, but I also knew enough about history that a lone woman being treated kindly wasn’t at all common. Human decency looked differently pre-industrial revolution.

All five of them were gone before I could think of anything to say. Up ahead, just past the first outcropping of rock, there was a loud crack of musket fire, shouting, and the frantic neighing of horses. I dove towards the forest on the side of the road, my heart beating fast as I stared ahead. I had no bearing on which direction would be safest, so I hid — just like Jamie told me.

Dropping to my knees, I pushed back into a bush, tucking myself into a ball in the dark, listening to the sounds of fighting ahead. If they survived, they would come back for me, I was certain of it. As much as this was based on thin mutual trust, I was vulnerable and — apparently — had a Scottish name just alarming enough Dougal didn’t want to leave me to fend for myself. God bless my ancestors, I guess.

From my position, I could really only see the tiny expanse of the road directly in front of me, the dust settled already. The night air was cold and it kept stirring, a light enough wind to set my teeth chattering again, I pressed my jaw together harshly, gritting my teeth together as I wrapped my arms around myself.

If they didn’t come back I would have to run.

My best opportunity for survival was to find Inverness again, find someone to pity me enough that I could get to safety for the evening. Then after that, I supposed I could return to Craigh na Dun. If the stones were how I got to this place, then I would try my damndest to get back.

The noises faded. I wasn’t certain what that meant for me, but I pushed forward from under the bush, leaves and branches scratching at my cheeks and poking through my sweater as I crawled back out to the side of the road. Kneeling on the rock and grass, I tilted my head back and forth, seeing no movement on the road, either behind or ahead.

Swallowing, I pushed myself up, sticking against the forest edge as I moved carefully, walking towards where they had all disappeared. As I neared closer, I saw the distinct form of a horse and stopped, pressing my hand against a tree. It could be either side.

Then I heard laughter.

I picked my way forward a bit more, catching sight of kilts and men wiping off knives and swords. Stumbling forward two more steps, I broke out into a run, stumbling over rocks and a few sticks. It came to no surprise that I wasn’t quiet at all by the time I reached them, but Dougal and the rest of the men had good graces to look surprised.

Jamie though, turned with blood splattered across his shirt, the smile still in his eyes. “There ye’ are. Was jus’ about to come get ye’.”

I sucked in a breath, staring at all of them and then catching sight of a body just past them. “I was right.”

Dougal grunted, grabbing onto his horse and then swinging back up into its saddle. “Jamie.”

Jamie strode forward, grabbing onto his horse and glancing over at me. I reached out and pressed a hand against its neck before clambering back up. He joined me, carefully grabbing the reigns around me and then clicking to spur it forward with the rest of the men.

“Are you hurt?” I turned my head slightly, startled to see him so near me even though we were touching. My eyes flickered down to the blood across his chest.

He shook his head, his gaze following mine. “Nah, tis not mine, _uan beag_ , donna worry yer head.”

“Good,” I whispered as I pulled the kilt back around my shoulders. We passed ten bodies, which didn’t seem to faze the members of the party as they laughed and joked with each other, Gaelic rolling off their tongues as quickly as alcohol rolled down it from flasks. One of the men turned towards me and held it out, but I shook my head.

Jamie took it instead, taking a long swig. It smelled hard but sweet at the same time and my stomach rolled, memories of the honey and sugar-crusted oatmeal from this morning reminding me I had nothing on my stomach and enough adrenaline that energy was sparse. My stomach rolled and I wavered slightly in the seat, feeling nausea build again.

Suddenly, a hand was on my waist, firm and strong holding onto me as he pressed the flask into my hand. “Better have a wee nip, lass.”

I curled my fingers around the flask, looking down at it uncomfortably. I never liked to drink — I didn’t really have the time to unwind in the past few years, between college classes and hospital trips. The flavor was stark and made me cough when I finally tipped the whiskey into my mouth. I jerked it away from my lips, my throat burning as I bent forward and choked.

One of the men laughed, “It ain’t poison, lassie.”

“Might as well be,” I rasped, sitting back up and staring forlornly up at the sky. From behind me, Jamie took the flask back, taking another sip before passing to back to a shadowed companion.

I pulled the spare fabric around my shoulders, coughing lightly until I dropped back against Jamie’s chest, too tired to protest against the touch. He seemed to hold his breath for a moment before sitting up a little straighter. I turned my head away from the cold, cheek pressed against his shoulder that smelled of iron and fire, like warm smoke and wood. I reached up and rubbed my eyes again, grateful that I had decent eyesight and didn’t have to fumble with glasses or an out of place ability aid in a time that would make it all the more difficult.

Jamie’s head shifted as he surveyed the road and I took the opportunity, so near to him, to stare up at his jaw, hard cut, stubbled and speckled with blood. His eyes flickered down suddenly and when he exhaled his nostrils flared as his lips twitched upwards.

I looked away, fisting the fabric in my hands as I closed my eyes finally.

Sleep never actually overtook me, between the fear of falling off the horse if I truly rested and the uncertainty that highwaymen, redcoats, or something else would attack the party kept me half-awake, half-asleep, in a miserable twilight state.

As dawn rose and dew shimmered on the grass, I finally peeled my eyes open. In the distance, a hard stone castle stood against the light, blocking the view from anything else. It seemed like all the hours of travel melted away to nothing as we neared the castle.

Behind me, Jamie moved his head as I leaned up slightly. He exhaled and I felt his hand move on my waist, steadying me as the horses pitched down a small hill and then began an ascent to the castle at the top of a much larger one.

I shifted my weight, inadvertently knocking back into him. His hand tightened on my side, steadying us both as he muttered gruffly. “Sit still, lass.”

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat, staring up at the stone as we neared it, houses and a village appearing at the very base. There were already people moving around, dressed in the same outfits as the men of the party — or beige layered skirts and corsets for the women. Some of them plainly gawked at the pants covering my legs, visible just under the kilt fabric still draped around myself.

My neck felt warm all the sudden and I pushed the fabric away, embracing the cold as I sat forward, distancing myself from the man behind me. As the horses waited for wagons to pass over a small bridge to the castle entrance, I wrapped an arm around myself.

“Where are we?”

“Castle Leoch.” Jamie answered simply, voice rough from the journey.

The horses slowed once Dougal was greeted by a man just inside the walls, as he climbed down and gave him instructions in Gaelic, I found myself being nudged down.

My boots sunk into a mixture of mud and shit as I landed. The men didn’t seem bothered by it, allowing their horses to be taken by stableboys as they stretched. Jamie was rolling his shoulder again, and at my look he paused.

A short and round woman appeared, calling out the names of the men as she spotted them. “Murtagh! Angus!” She clicked her tongue at them, her nose scrunching up, “Oh ye’ all need baths, off wi' ye'.” She waved two of them away and then set her sights on Jamie, cooing happily. “Not a scratch on ye’!” The joy in her expression faded as she saw me, standing cold as it began to mist again.

Jamie looked from her to me, his expression unreadable for a moment, but his voice, rough and kind. “Mistress Fitzgibbons.” The woman looked back at him and he smiled at her, “Willa.”

It was the first time he had said my name and something unraveled in my stomach, making every second all too real, of the journey, of the stones, and of the man who was readjusting the broach to hold his kilt back in place.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons looked baffled for a moment, her eyes scanning me and then finally seeing the hastily wrapped cloth around my arm.

“Murtagh found ‘er,” Jamie supplied as she stepped closer and clicked her tongue, picking up my arm and surveying the wound, pulling the sweater away from it. It was already gummy and red as it healed, but if it did heal without an infection I would forever have a divot in my arm. “Dougal said ta’ bring her back.”

She must have decided that was enough reason because she looked up at Jamie fiercely. “Injured na’ less. Off with ye’, go eat while I tend ta’ this poor lass.”

I found myself being drug through dark and cool hallways, stumbling to keep up with the quick feet of the woman in front of me. We finally reached a room that she deemed suitable. There was a roaring fire inside that drew me closer. Mrs. Fitzgibbons was moving around quickly, gathering scraps of fabric and warm boiled water.

The moment I sat down on another stool, she dumped them in front of me and then wiped down my arm unceremoniously. I winced at the new wave of tenderness and pain. She was careful though, letting the part that had already healed be still before wrapping my arm with multiple pieces of cloth and tying it off at the end.

“Na’,” She looked up at me, “ya’ stay here.”

I nodded as she abruptly left the room. Looking around the stone walls, I reached forward to the bucket of water and used one of the cloths to wash my face off, it came away with blood and dirt and I wrung it out carefully, pushing around my sleeves and the sweater, trying to clean and wipe myself down.

Peeling the side of my pants away, I stared down at a bruise that was black and purple, the edges green as it covered the entire side of my body and curved around my ass where I couldn’t turn my head.

The door opened and I jumped, but it was only Mrs. Fitzgibbons again. She caught sight of the bruise and stopped short, concern marring her determined but kind features.

“Lass,” It almost sounded like an admonishment.

In her hands were a thin beige slip of some kind, a corset, and a few other pieces of clothing. I cleared my throat and stared at her, finally speaking. “I fell.”

She tilted her head at me and then must have thought better of her response. “I’ll be leavin’ these here then.” She sat the clothes down, eyeing me for a moment. “Ye’ will need some rest before seeing himself.”

I wasn’t sure who that was, but I wordlessly nodded and she left the room again. I considered it safe enough to strip down carefully, feeling strange as I tugged my modern bra and underwear off. I used the water until it was chilled to wash my entire body off, running it through my hair enough to get some of the dirt and mud out of it.

Shivering, I tugged the chemise over my body, feeling it fall to my mid-calf and shivering as I tugged each sock on she left, rolling the tops of the stockings up until they stopped. Even though there was a bed, I dropped onto the cool stone in front of the fireplace and wrapped my arms around myself.

The wooden door creaked and my head snapped up to stare as it opened slowly. There was a piece of wood within reach, I could have fire thrown in the face of whoever it was — but then Jamie stepped in through the thin gap and pressed the door shut quickly behind himself.

His eyes flickered over the dirty pieces of cloth and bucket of water, then found me curled in front of the fire. His face was cleaner, but he was still in the dirty clothes from the road. In his hands, I finally noticed a basket of something. Jamie neared and then sat down carefully on the stool I had abandoned. He unpacked a metal container, placing it near the fire and then broke a loaf of bread in half, holding out the larger portion to me.

“Ye’ need somethin’ on that stomach, _uan beag_.”

I took it from him carefully, shifting around on the stones before he stood and grabbed the quilt from the bed. He dropped it over my shoulders, nodding once and then resuming his position on the stool. Picking up the container, he dipped a spoon in it and then stuck it in his mouth, holding it out to me.

The metal was warm as I looked down at the broth inside, electing to tear off a chunk of the bread and dip it into it as Jamie smiled and mirrored my actions. We passed the broth back and forth wordlessly for a moment, eating in silence until he sighed.

I chewed and swallowed the piece of bread before tilting my head up and staring at him. “What is it?”

“Just curious ‘bout ye’.”

I laughed breathlessly and looked back at the fire, pulling my knees to my chest. “Don’t know why.” The words broke in my throat as my chest constricted. “I—“ I couldn’t think of what to say as he stared at me, choked by the reality of the situation.

He reached out, then faltered. “Why’re ye’ alone?”

I turned my head, staring at the fire as I sucked in a breath. My chest felt like it was squeezing my heart in two, running over everything, twisting and flipping the memories, words, and events of the past twenty-four hours, then the near-decade of my life.

“My parents died.” I pulled the quilt closer, swallowing the ball in my throat, refusing to look at him. “My dad died a year ago, my mom six months ago,” rubbing my nose, I cleared my throat but it didn’t do anything to help the overwhelming choking feeling settling on my chest.

“Ah, _uan_ ,” Jamie’s voice was gentle, this time he did touch me, his hand coming down on my shoulder, squeezing it as I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t hold back the gasp as my throat closed and tears welled in my eyes. Before I could process it, he had slid off the stool and pulled me into his lap, rocking me gently back and forth as I cried.

He whispered soft Gaelic in my ear as he touched my hair, curled and frizzed from the fire, running his hand over it repeatedly as I buried my face against his chest. My sobs weren’t quiet, but they weren’t the high keening sound that was burned in my memory from the hospital visit after learning my dad was gone — the way my mother’s face twisted and the pain hit all at once would never fade. It was, as stupid as it sounded, easier to manage when she passed. Everything could hurt only to a point before numbness set in.

Jamie’s hand stilled on the back of my head, then ghosted down to touch the back of my neck gently. I lifted my head, aware of the warmth radiating off of him and the fire, and the thin fabric of his kilt and my dress. We stared at each other wordlessly for a moment before he shifted to lift his other hand. When he moved his shoulder, he winced slightly and I pulled back, staring at the same one he had favored since the cottage.

“What did you do to it?” I shifted, moving out of his lap and touching his shoulder tentatively.

Jamie made a face and turned his head, following my movements. “It’s na’ a problem, just sore, lass.”

I pressed on the skin just under his shoulder blade and he sucked in a harsh breath. Hiding a little smile, I hummed and then carefully felt the muscle. It was tense, a little twisted, and as I moved my thumbs over his shirt, he let out a little groan.

Kneeling behind him, I watched as he adjusted on the stone floor, pulling his knees up slightly and hunching over as I rubbed across his shoulders. The shirt he was in was still splattered with dried blood, and I pulled it back from his skin so I could get a better handle on his shoulder.

Deep scars ran across his back, making me stop short as I stared at the raised and welted skin. There were chunks missing that I could see under his shirt, a texture across nearly his entire back that made my stomach flip. When I stopped, he raised his head.

“Lobsterbacks,” he was quiet for a moment, “flogged me twice, probably woulda killed me, but no fun in floggin’ a dead man.”

I pulled my hands back as he shifted and pulled the shirt over his head, the entire expanse of his back was scarred, crisscrossed with deep cuts and wounds where the flogging had healed over. Scar tissue was evident in more than one place, some divots in his skin deep enough I knew the muscle had been damaged as well.

Looking down at my wrapped arm, I sat back on my heels for a moment.

Jamie turned his torso, shifting to watch me for a moment. “Ya’ arm will heal, jus’ like my back, _uan_.”

I reached out and turned him back towards the fire, focusing on massaging out the knot in his shoulder as he leaned over. It was silent until he began to softly tell me about what led to the flogging — his sister, Jenny and how the redcoats tore through his father’s farm and coerced her into sex just to save Jamie’s life.

“Willa,” My name startled me enough that I paused, looking up as Jamie turned his head, “promise me ta’ run if ye’ ever cross a redcoat named Randall.”

“I promise.” I answered immediately, my brow creasing as I stared at him. “You’re still bloody.” I said the words as I turned and grabbed one of the last two pieces of cloth Mrs. Fitzgibbons had left. Dunking it into the water, I shifted on the stone floor and turned back around, swiping it across Jamie’s face.

There were little lines at the edges of his eyes as he tried not to smile. I looked away from them, smiling to myself as I wiped off the blood and dirt around his cheeks and jaw. I was a little too careful not to stray close to his mouth, the room felt warm enough already.

When I sat back, he rolled his shoulder again and then smiled at me. “Miracle worker, aren’t ye’, lass?”

I shrugged half-heartedly, smiling at him. “Thank you for bringing me dinner.”

Jamie gathered the fallen and dirty shirt and tugged it back over his head before standing, one hand on the waist of his kilt as he stared down at me. Carefully, he bent over and picked up the fallen quilt, draping it back around my shoulders.

“No trouble at all.” His eyes flickered over my face for a moment before he looked at the bed. “Better get to bed, lass, imagine ye’ll be summoned by the MacKenzie soon.”

I looked up at him, nodding as I pulled the quilt closer. He stepped around me, moving towards the door and then hesitating. With one hand on the door, Jamie looked back and then shook his head. The wood creaked as he left, pulling it solidly closed again as I turned back to look at the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said in the note in the prior chapter, this is really just a retelling and slight change to the Outlander book. I've omitted some of the things that were Claire-specific, like her medical knowledge, instead opting for an approach easier for me to research! Thanks to everyone who has read so far!


	3. 3 | Clan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inhabitants of Castle Leoch spend time settling with a stranger in their midst.

I woke up the moment the door opened, my body sluggishly following my mind as it jumped to high alert. Sitting up in the bed, I twisted with the quilt around me, expecting the worst as everything flooded back to mind from the past two days.

It was only Mrs. Fitzgibbons, holding a mug of broth and a different set of clothes this time. She surveyed the fact I left the corset at the end of the bed with a hint of distaste before clicking her tongue at me. “Come now, ye’ must be gettin’ up.”

Pushing the quilt away, I cleared my throat and rubbed my eyes before standing on the cool stone, feeling it seep through the stockings. She handed the broth over and I barely got three sips in before she was whisking it away and beginning to help me dress.

I found myself holding onto the bed frame as she tightened the corset strings, the dress unfamiliar as the layers added even more bulk to my thighs and hips, curving me at an extreme angle. But once the dress settled, I looked down at the deep green color and smoothed my fingers over it.

“There matches yer eyes.” She gave me a soft smile and then touched my hair, pivoting to tug at it, manipulating the soft frizzy curls until they were pulled off my face.

“Mrs. Fitzgibbons,” I was hesitant to ask, but she looked up at me none-the-less, always a little bit of impatient tinge to her eyes. “Who is the MacKenzie?”

“Why,” she looked at me taken-aback, “Himself, the Laird.”

I wracked my brain, nodding in response as she shot me a puzzled look before stepping towards the door. “Ye’ be ready in a moment, Dougal will come fetch ye’.” Just before she left, she looked at me, “Call me as Mrs. Fitz, lass.”

It was only a few minutes before the door opened again, the tall and imposing form of Dougal halfway stepping in to survey me. He nodded his head, gesturing for me to follow and I gathered the skirts, careful not to trip as I hurried after him. He watched me as we spun around the castle, reaching one of the tower rooms.

Just outside, he paused and looked at me for another moment. “Best not to lie to Colum.”

I wasn’t planning on it, but I didn’t grace him with a response, instead stepping into the tower room and looking around at all the books and the very intricate cage full of all types of songbirds.

The Laird stepped in behind me and I turned to greet him, momentarily pausing as I took him in. He was nearly nose to nose with my 5’6, with a face and shoulders that looked identical to Dougal, save for Colum still had grey wispy hair and a thick beard. It was his legs that stopped me, twisted and gnarled. They looked painful, and I immediately knew the name of the deformity, it playing on the tip of my tongue.

“Mistress Thomson,” He omitted the ‘p’ from my last name, nodding his head at me as he bowed just slightly, “happy ta’ host ye’ here. I’m Colum ban Campbell MacKenzie, the laird of Castle Leoch.”

I fumbled before going into a half-curtsey, not at all prepared. “Willa, sir. Thank you for allowing me to stay here.”

Much like everyone else, an odd expression crossed his features before he walked over to his chair. When he sat down, he sighed heavily and I took it as a motion to sit across from him. He clarified the story he had received from Dougal — I was found by Murtagh, a relative of Jamie’s apparently — and then brought to the rest of the men at a cottage not far from Craigh na Dun. I filled in what I could, half-truths blurring with lies on my tongue.

He named off other Thompsons, but I couldn’t lie and say I knew them and be caught. Instead, I insisted that I didn’t know any of them because of another half-truth.

“I was born in the colonies, sir.” I swallowed around the word, squinting at him as I exhaled. “I… I was sent back to Scotland because of my parents' deaths, I had no family there, you see.” I cleared my throat and spurred forward, “I believe the redcoats were mistaken when they fired at me, but I am grateful for the help I received from your brother and the rest of the men.”

A smile flickered on the edge of Colum’s lips, “Yes, I heard ye’ got along well with Jamie.”

I looked down at my hands, exhaling again and then looking back up. “He was very kind, just as all the others were.” That seemed even enough, though it didn’t appear like Colum believed any less that I had shown favoritism for Jamie. It was hard — the other men were rough, crass, and Dougal’s mistrust was easy to spot. But maybe if I had some kind of favor with his brother, he would back off.

“Well,” Colum stood and I mirrored his actions as he took me in. “Yer a welcome guest of Castle Leoch until we can come to some favor as to a relative.”

I nodded, knowing it wouldn’t be possible, and hoping there wasn’t a deadline on his hospitality. As I left the room, I glanced at the spines of the books as I passed, reading the dates that read all the way back to the late 1600s, then at the closest to the door, one with 1743 embossed on the spine.

Much to my dismay, Dougal was waiting in the hall, hand on his kilt as I stepped back out, trying to process finally having a very real and concrete date for the time I had appeared. 1743 — literal centuries before I would even be a thought in either of my parents’ minds, out of sight, out of comfort, out of time.

He didn’t say anything, instead escorted me back to the room I had spent hours in and left with a slight bang of the wooden door. I paced back and forth, peering out the castle’s thin window to the courtyard, uncertain if I could leave or even if I wanted to. Hours passed, enough time that I could vaguely begin to recognize the same small blobs of castle workers and men as they moved around the courtyard below — I was certain I never saw Jamie.

A boy came to get me for dinner, his smile wide and his face eager as he chattered to me in a thick Scottish accent, asking who I was and why I was Colum’s guest. I didn’t have good answers for him and he seemed disappointed before we stepped into the hall.

The mostly Gaelic conversations halted for a minute as I walked with him towards the front where a long table was laden with food, much like the four others. Some looked at me surreptitiously, cautious eyes flickering from me to their food before conversations resumed. Colum nodded at me, daring a smile as I was gestured to a seat between him and Dougal.

The Laird introduced me to his wife, Letitia, who nodded her bright redhead in my direction and cautioned a smile. The only one who seemed put off at my existence was Dougal, but I tried to ignore the stone wall of hesitation next to me in favor of polite conversation and ample compliments on the food and Colum’s kindness. One of the boys — Hamish — as his father, Colum, introduced him to me, gave a light laugh, his face twisting.

“Ye’ thank us more than any guest da’ has ‘round.”

Letitia gave him a pointed look but I sat back, embarrassed, and a little uncertain. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want anyone to think I’m not grateful. I’d imagine if Murtagh hadn’t found me I would be dead — or worse.”

It cast a quiet moment over the long table until Letitia looked up at me and her eyes creased at the corners. “Well, we’re glad you’re not.”

I smiled at her, sincerely glad that I wasn’t being cast out into the Scottish countryside to fend for myself. The dinner options were vast in front of me, meats and cheeses with breads and desserts scattered around. Dougal spoke to Colum in Gaelic like I wasn’t even there, rapidly rattling words off. I didn’t catch most of it, but I could pick it up it had to do with Jamie.

“Ah, if ye’ think that’s best.” Colum slumped back in his seat, sighing heavily.

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, and I was left to take myself back to my room, which would have been fine if all the damn walls didn’t look the same. Luckily a kind servant girl, not very much younger than me, took pity on me and lit the way with a candle, seeing me to my room with a half smile and a curtsy.

The next morning was similar to the last, except I was awake when Mrs. Fitz walked in with new clothes this time, much wider and extravagant compared to the dress she lent me the day before. It was in the same deep green and I allowed her to once again corset me up, tying me into the garment tightly before ushering me back down to the hall where we had eaten dinner the evening before.

This time everything was arranged against the wall, standing room for multiple townsfolk who presented various problems in Gaelic to Colum and Dougal. I kept scanning the crowd, catching familiar words here and there, but looking for the one face that I knew would provide a bit of comfort.

Jamie was nowhere to be found.

A girl was drug in front of the proceedings and barked at in Gaelic as she cried. The man holding her arm had to have been her father, and Colum looked solemnly over to Dougal before he rapped his knuckles on the arm of the wooden chair he was seated in. Whatever her crime, the punishment seemed to make her frantic as she cried harder and her father turned her around.

From the back of the room, a voice called out and murmurs spread through the crowd. I knew it before he even stepped into the center — Jamie looked sternly at Colum and Dougal, spitting back and forth with them in Gaelic before the girl let out a sob of relief.

I watched in a mixture of horror and awe as the punishment for her was instead dealt upon him. The executioner who had been dealing out punishments for the entire first hour and a half stepped forward and threw a punch so hard at Jamie’s abdomen that he buckled slightly.

I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped, drawing the attention of the others around me as I stepped forward. A hand on my arm stopped me, Mrs. Fitz giving me a stern look.

“Best not to intervene, lass.”

It physically hurt to watch Jamie stand, wavering back and forth as he took the blows meant for the girl. Whatever she had done — or had been assumed to do — was bad enough that the executioner rained blows down on Jamie until his nose was bloody and his eye was swollen.

He stepped off to the side after spitting blood onto the stone, nodding once at the girl as he gathered himself.

I wanted to dart across the empty center, check that he was alright — but my own name was being called forth.

“Mistress Willa Thompson,” Dougal’s clear voice cut through the last of whispers that trailed after Jamie.

Jamie paused before he left, at the edge of the crowd, turning back towards me as I took a few staggered steps forward, standing in the middle of the room under the watchful gaze of everyone who had been called to their version of court. I felt on display in the dress Mrs. Fitz had given me, my chest heaving as I stared from Dougal to Colum.

“Sir,” Dougal turned to Colum, clearing his throat, “we pray ye’ grace and mercy on Mistress Willa Thompson, American colonist, found lost on the road from Craigh na Dun, injured by redcoats. She fled into the forest on yer lands, found by ken to ye’. We beg ye provide safety and refuge until ken can be found.”

Colum nodded along with the words, and for a moment I was made aware that Dougal had taken the time to specify I was _American_ , not British which would have caused too many quiet murmurs and distrust. I turned my head and favored a glance to the taller man, but his eyes didn’t move from his brother.

The Laird stood, causing the whispers I expected as he extended a hand to me. “I welcome ye’, Mistress Thompson, and offer you my hearth and home fer as long as needed.”

I grasped his hand, smiling at him gently as I nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

Just as quick, I was replaced by another angry pair of townsfolk, which I was certain their argument was over a sheep — or maybe a pig. I didn’t pay any attention, quickly moving over to where Jamie was holding onto his side with a slight wince.

The smile that lifted his lips exposed blood and I sucked in a breath and shook my head at him. “You’re an idiot.” I hissed the words, cautious of the attention of nearby attendees. He shrugged with one arm, cradling the other as he stepped into the back hall and I followed closely.

He took a seat just inside one of the kitchen rooms and I knelt in front of him, pulling a handkerchief from my dress and blotting his lip as I chewed on my own. “Stupid, that’s what you are. I don’t even know why that type of punishment was even an _option_ —“

Jamie rolled his eyes and took the handkerchief from me, wiping off the cut above his brow and then rubbing his nose, tilting his head back long enough to stop the bleeding. “‘M fine, lass.”

“You’re stupid.” I reiterated, standing back up and shaking my head at him. “And I haven’t known where you’ve been.”

He looked back up at me at that, the soft words hanging between us as kitchen servants and staff bustled around, preparing tonight’s dinner.

“I got sent ta’ the stables, safest place for me accordin’ to Dougal.” He rushed the handkerchief in his fist and then released it, holding it out to me. “Didn’t know you’d be lookin’.”

I swallowed and took the bloody scrap of cloth back, relaxing my set jaw as I looked down at the cobbled floor. “I don’t know who else to trust.”

Mrs. Fitz found us then, gasping happily. “Thank ye’, lad. Laoghaire didn’t need ta’ be humiliated like that.” She surveyed Jamie’s various wounds and urged him to swish some water around, most of it coming back out bloody. As she encouraged him to treat his eye with a mixture of herbs, her attention flitted back to me. “Glad ta’ hear ye will be around, lass.”

I smiled at her, nodding once as she rushed off to get the herbs for Jamie’s slightly swollen eye. We stared at each other until I shook my head and sighed, pressing my hand against my head and sitting down on the bench next to him.

He let out a small laugh. “World on yer shoulders, _uan_?”

“It feels like it.” I looked over at him and then cautiously reached up, prodding at his eye and frowning as he looked at me. So close, I could see the bright variations in his blue eyes, vibrant and soft as his split lips rose in the faintest of smiles again.

I pulled my hand back, shaking my head. “Try not to get yourself killed, I don’t think Dougal likes me very much.”

“Ay, pay him no thought, lass.” Jamie slung his arm carefully around my shoulders, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and wiping the blood off with his tongue. “If the laird likes ye’, no one else matters.”

Mrs. Fitz reappeared with the girl in tow — Laoghaire — who sheepishly shifted back and forth, her eyes fluttering between Jamie’s arm and me. I excused myself, a pang of something shooting through my stomach as I passed her smooth skin and light red hair. She was stunning — and he had just saved her from humiliation and pain.

I didn’t have time to mull over it. Dougal found me after Hall was called to end and I found myself for the next two days in the tower room with Colum, carefully taking up where their last healer had ended. Massaging helped the laird’s limbs, especially the pressure points that were holding all the stress on his back and hips.

Mrs. Fitz kept me busy when I wasn’t in the presence of “himself” teaching me all about the various herbs and other medicinal uses she knew. I tried to remember as many as possible as I was shown the old cellar where the prior healer had worked. There were so many vials and items I couldn’t fathom all the uses, but there was a precedent set — if I could help Colum’s legs and Jamie’s shoulder, then I could do other things.

It seemed like Dougal’s main goal was to keep me in the castle or busy away from the outside, but as he was called to more important matters, I noticed I was being shadowed by two of the other men who had been with the party. I quickly learned their names — Angus and Rupert — and grew a little grumpy that they were always lingering in the shadows as I moved back and forth, tending to wounds and learning how to properly grind herbs into a paste.

Finally, what felt like nearly a week later, I broke and stole up to the kitchen above me, tired of the cellar.

Mrs. Fitz brightened as she saw me. “Ay, Willa!” She pushed a basket into my hands, “I was jus’ about ta send a boy with this to the stables.” Her expression treaded mischievously, “but now ye’ can take it to auld Alec and Jamie.”

I wrapped my hand around the handle and smiled at her. “As long as I’m not boiling more witch hazel, I’m happy.”

Angus trailed after me as I took off outside, making my way to the road and then hiking up my dress to walk up the hill where the stable sat. In the distance, I could see a horse, white and a little wild, as it trotted in circles around a wooden pen. Jamie was clicking at it, talking in soft Gaelic as I neared.

The horse stuttered to a stop, catching sight of me and braying as it went up on two legs. I dropped the basket and held up my hand as Jamie turned to see what spooked it. In a moment, it had calmed and cautiously side-stepped over, nudging at my hand and then nipping at my fingers.

I pulled them away before it could bite down and Jamie turned, clicking. “Ah, away with ye’.”

I took the opportunity to pick the basket back up, watching as he swung himself over the fence and smoothed out his kilt. The swelling around his eye had gone down to a barely noticeable green, his lip shiny and healed. Holding the basket up, I smiled at him.

“Lunch, courteously of Mrs. Fitz.”

“Much better delivery than Hamish.” Jamie’s eyes ran over me and for a moment I felt embarrassed Angus was hanging back, watching the exchange. His lips twitched up into a smug smirk as he plucked the basket from my fingers and nodded towards the stables.

I followed him, and to my surprise, Angus stayed back, chewing on a piece of grass outside as Jamie spread out his kilt for us to sit on and began to pull food out of the basket. I picked at a piece of bread, watching as he devoured fruit and dried meat. He raised an eyebrow at me and then chuckled.

“Ye’? What is it now, _uan_?”

I laughed and shook my head, “Breathe between bites.”

He scoffed at me and made a show at chewing painfully slow, then leaned back and flopped against a bale of hay. “Bard will be by soon to the hall, songs and drink. Will ye’ be there?”

“I guess so, the leeches in the cellar aren’t the best company.” I stared up at the stable ceiling, sucking in a breath. “Jamie…”

His head turned at the sound of his name and he shifted just enough that I could see how alert he was.

I kept my eyes back on the ceiling. “What if none of my family can be found? What will happen then?”

He sat back up, adjusting so he was sitting cross-legged, thighs exposed as he picked at a piece of hay, shredding it in his fingers. “Suppose Colum’ll have to decide what to do with ye’. But yer a fair healer, keep ya’ around for a bit.”

I swallowed and turned to look at him. “So I’ll be safe?”

“ _Uan baeg_ ,” he reached out, touching my chin with rough fingers, “you will always be safe, long as I’m around.” He let me go after a moment, ensuring I understood he was serious.

While we picked at the rest of the food, Jamie told me tale after tale of him on the road, rambunctious, outlaw activities that got him in scuffles with the redcoats time and time again. He had a price on his head — suddenly his time in the stables, away from anyone who may dare step over to the redcoats and expose him, made so much more sense.

Angus finally grew tired of standing outside, barking at me that it was time to go. I took the empty basket with a little smile, stepping away from Jamie still sitting in the hay. His ears were almost as red as his hair as he watched me go.

Days bled into what I was certain were weeks. I got better at herbs, pastes, treating everything from stomach aches to deep wounds that I messily stitched. None of it was my specialty, but at the same time, I could tell many of the castle inhabitants were just grateful someone was there to help. I didn’t hesitate to do my best, what else was there for me to do? Inverness was miles away, the stones a painful and strange memory.

If I got back to them now, would I even go through them?

There was a thick tome, left by the previous healer, I read it most nights, pouring over ingredients, recipes, and a myriad of explanations for sickness ranging from demonic possession to the fae. If I was going to live here, centuries behind anything I ever knew, I needed to understand more.

The bard did play, singing as his fingers moved over a harp, for three straight nights I sat next to Jamie on a hard wooden bench. Only one of the songs interested me enough to have Jamie whisper English translations in my ear, hand dangerously close to my hip.

It was about the stones, a wailing tale of a woman lost in time, returning to them to be reunited with her life.

I swallowed hard as the bard finished it, polite applause dying before he began another one. Jamie took notice of the mixed expression on my face and whispered. “No worries, lass, just a folk tune.”

I noticed Laoghaire all three evenings, sitting just behind Jamie and me, her eyes on him, curious and tinged with want.

On the final night, I covered his hand on the bench with mine after I sat down. She stopped looking at him the entire evening, and he gave me a look of surprise before turning his attention back to the visiting bard. But it didn’t stop the way his hand tilted, putting us palm to palm as his rough fingers touched mine.

The next morning, I was awoken by Dougal pounding down the stairs to my new home. He gave me a curious look as I roused up from reading the medical tome, then cleared his throat.

“I’ll be takin’ a few men round to gather rent, we’ll be needing a healer with us.”

I knew it wasn’t an invitation, but merely a demand. Crossing my arms across my chest, I nodded at him, “Okay.” He seemed shocked at my immediate agreement, but then the expression fell into the same grumpy frown as I smiled. “I want my own horse this time.”

“Ay, ye’ll have it.” He waved me off, stomping back up the stairs as he shouted back down. “We leave at dawn, at the morrow!”

It took all day between new patients to gather what I could in a small saddlebag, taking the herbs that the book insisted were the most important. I could do a lot with my hands, I decided, but I needed the aid of the instructions for the rest. Stupidly, I wished I had my cell phone to take a photo of the book so I had the instructions to fall back on.

I settled for copying the relevant ones onto a piece of parchment myself by candlelight, then fell into bed.

Before dawn, I rose, tightening my own corset and grabbing the bags I had prepared. I took the steps two at a time, uncertain the next moment I would see the cellar but not missing it as I hurried upstairs and past an only just-risen Mrs. Fitz. She called after me to be careful as I rushed into the courtyard.

The party Dougal had gathered was identical to the ones who had rescued me. Dougal already astride his stallion, Murtagh and Angus to his right and left, Rupert tightening his saddlebags.

Then Jamie, holding two reigns in his hands, the same horse he rode before and then a speckled grey one. His lips twitched when he saw me.

I beamed at him, unable to keep it off my face as I moved over to secure my own saddlebags. As the sun began to rise, I jumped up onto the back of the horse, a cloak around me that Mrs. Fitz had given me a week ago, insisting it would be put to better use by me than her.

Dougal clicked his tongue, glancing back once to ensure we were all prepared, and then set off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one look at me, I've spent all my spare time writing this. I omitted the oath-scene mostly because I felt like it didn't need to be totally rewritten, but just know Jamie's allegiances lay with the MacKenzies.


	4. 4 | Rally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rent is due and Willa is recruited to help on the road, which is rockier than anyone expected.

The party was completed with a surprise seventh member, a kind Scottish man by the name of Ned Gowan, a solicitor and, by literally all intents and purposes, a glorified accountant drug along for Dougal’s peace of mind. There were others with us, helping guide an empty wagon for trades and to keep the rent safe as we traveled.

I was solidly squished in the middle of the traveling group, next to Mr. Gowan who liked to talk about all the items they would be accepting from residents that lived on Clan MacKenzie lands. It ranged from sacks of grain to live pigs, even though he assured me he had made clear he didn’t want to deal with them again.

Jamie sometimes rode next to me, but often moved around where needed, either at the back to keep an eye out, or at the front to speak to Dougal in quiet Gaelic. Mostly though, for the first day, I was trapped between Mr. Gowan and a random other guard, too wary to let me out of their sight on roads where highwaymen, watchmen, and redcoats threatened.

As the sky turned dark, Dougal called for camp, letting the men break off into groups to keep the livestock safe and protect the sizable group we had. I found myself unconsciously moving to the small group that set up with Dougal — I didn’t mind Murtagh, though Angus and Rupert were crass and loud, especially when drunk. Jamie was between them in front of the fire and he instinctively looked up as I stepped over with a blanket.

Angus nudged Rupert, smirking as he looked at Jamie. “Ay, there she is! Cannae handle another drink, lass?”

“No, thank you.” I rolled my eyes as I dropped to sit in the grass, tilting my head to stare at the stars for a moment. They were vibrant, strong and bright against the dark sky — I remembered seeing some as a kid, the country didn’t have as much pollution as the city did after we moved, but this was altogether different. It _felt_ like a different world sometimes, so strongly it made my stomach flip.

Jamie stood and stepped around the fire, he collapsed next to me unceremoniously, much to the annoyance of Dougal who took another long drink from his flask. I tilted my head back down, looking at him in the low light of the fire before taking his flask from him and raising it to Angus.

He whooped once as I winced and took a long drink of whiskey. It was getting easier to drink, but the initial taste always made my eyes water a little bit. Jamie chuckled as he took the flask back and wrapped his lips around it again to drink again. When he was done, he held it loosely in his hand, one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him towards the fire.

I missed pants. The thought plagued me earlier on the horse, how much easier everything would be if I didn’t have a corset wrapped around me and layers of fabric. It was good for warmth, but not much else. As the men went back to conversing in half-Gaelic, half-English, I leaned back on my elbows and then dropped onto my back to stare up at the sky again.

Jamie turned his head, looking down at me for a moment before he shook his head. “Comfortable?”

“Very,” I smiled, balling up the blanket to use it as a pillow. “Wake me up if someone dies.” He laughed, but I already had my eyes closed, feeling safer by the fire then I would have if I set up camp anywhere else.

Dougal lightly kicked my leg in the morning, grunting something about getting up. The sun hadn’t even risen over the mountains as I sat up and rubbed at my eyes. A blanket fell away from me and I looked down in confusion, mine still in a ball on the grass where my head had been. To the side, with the horses, Jamie was leaned up securing the last of his bags again, his saddle roll empty.

I moved as quickly as I could, gathering both blankets and throwing Jamie’s back to him as I approached my horse. Dougal moved fast, he was already astride his stallion as I fumbled with my own saddle roll. He gave an irritated grunt and whistled for the rest of the group to move on, waving his hand as they began to move out without me.

Jamie stepped over and pushed my hands away, deftly tying everything in place before nodding to the saddle. “Best move, lass, cannae leave ye’ behind.”

I gave him a grateful look before hauling myself up, wrapping my cloak tightly around my shoulders as I spurred my horse forward. They weren’t too far ahead, but it gave me a moment to wake up, yawning as Jamie fell into the spot next to me.

“Thank you for the blanket.” I looked at him as we trailed behind everyone else, “you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged it off, running a hand through his hair and then looking over at me. “No good if ye’ die or freeze, _uan_.”

I smiled, shaking my head and holding onto the reins with one hand, biting the inside of my cheek. “And what about you?”

“I have thick skin,” He huffed, “thick skull too, ‘m fine.”

“Okay,” I placated him, laughing lightly as my stomach grumbled. Reaching down, I pulled out some of the provisions I had packed and wordlessly passed part of the dried meat over to Jamie. His fingers brushed mine as he took it, and I swallowed hard at the touch, pulling my hand back and turning my focus back to the road ahead. Chewing was the only sound except for the horses’ hooves, at least until I looked over at him again and sucked in a breath.

“Why is your tartan different?”

Jamie laughed suddenly, looking down at himself and then over at me. “It’s the Fraser tartan. The rest of ‘em are MacKenzies. Though suppose ‘m an honorary one, otherwise Dougal would have killed me by now.”

I hummed, looking over at the others traveling with us, most had the same colors as Dougal, which made sense as we were on MacKenzie land. I looked back at Jamie and smiled. “I like the Fraser tartan the best.” He gave me an odd look as I smiled even more, “the blue compliments your eyes.”

He didn’t know what to do with the compliment and I spurred my horse forward, breezing past the back guards and skirting around one of the wagons to slow to a trot again near Mr. Gowan. I knew I was riding a thin line, not literally, but with the flirtation and boldness. But a small part of me knew that if it came down to me living in 1743 forever, I couldn’t be alone. I wouldn’t survive unless I found my way home, or settled into tradition.

It was only for survival, nothing more, nothing less. There was still a thread of hope that ran through me that if I ever did return to the stones, I could step back through.

But could I forget Jamie?

He passed me on his horse, riding up to Dougal. The words didn’t carry against the morning breeze, but they both were grumpy over something, then Jamie fell back to the center, riding on my other side where a guard normally was. He was quiet and didn’t even look my way as we rode farther. I swallowed, maybe I _had_ overstepped, forwardness was equal to loose morals, or, in plain contemporary terms — a sex worker.

The front of the party slowly began to stop and I pulled the reins back on my horse, digging my heels into its sides before skittering to a stop. Ahead was the first signs of civilization we had seen, a man and a woman wailing at a group of men to stop as the men raided their farm.

My stomach rolled as I watched in horror. Jamie turned his horse, his back to them as he finally looked at me.

“The watch, paid to help keep highwaymen and lobsterbacks ‘way from farms. If ye’ don’t pay, they’ll take payment.” He pulled the hood of his cloak up to cover his hair, shielding himself from the view of anyone who would have rung the alarm for a quick shilling.

“That’s terrible,” I finally stuttered the words out, watching in horror as one of the men killed the farmer’s rooster in front of the couple. Dougal had ridden down and was on his way back with a sack of grain and a sack of two chickens. “And we’re just not going to help them?”

Jamie’s face was drawn as he stared at me sternly. “Na’, we’re not. Rent is due, we took Colum’s fair share. We keep movin’, _uan_.”

Dougal stopped long enough to let Mr. Gowan hastily write the contents on a crumpled piece of parchment, and then resumed his place at the front of the party, leading us all off as Jamie hid in the middle. I kicked my horse forward, glancing back once as the man held the woman back from the men as they continued to destroy the farm, the house burning in the background, smoke plumes rising into the morning sun. Jamie watched me carefully and I turned back around, setting my jaw and my shoulders as I tried to push it away. It was how things worked, no amount of reasoning or talking would change it — and it shouldn’t.

I had seen plenty of movies over the years about meddling with time, the butterfly effect burned into my memory. I wouldn’t intervene. Not unless I had to.

We reached the first stop not too soon after, a small cluster of homes that only held at most twenty people between them all. Mr. Gowan set up and took note on every item and coin brought to him, and I sat at the end of one of the wagons, watching as he counted coins and slipped them between two bags. It didn’t take a genius to see he was skimming off the top, but not for himself.

Dougal checked both bags at the end, nodding his head at the one with the skimmed coins before the party moved on.

The days blurred together on the road much like they did when I was at the castle. It couldn’t be helped, everything was mundane and formulaic: stop at the nearest houses, set Mr. Gowan up, receive rent, hand out ledgers and receipts, move on to the next town where I would find myself sitting next to my horse or — if I was lucky, finding an empty spot at the edge of the wagon. Sometimes the women of the town would spot me, invite me for a warm cup of tea on a cool morning or spare some fresh bread. Those were my favorite moments.

We spent a lot of time sleeping in the grass, on the road and with camps scattered around the countryside. One town was large enough that the singular room at the inn was offered to me — it was absolute bliss to stumble into the bed, but I couldn’t sleep all night, the drunken noise below setting my teeth on edge.

“All this time and no blade,” Mr. Gowan mused, looking at me one morning. “I’ll have to talk to Dougal about that, can’t have you unable to defend yourself.”

“Good luck.” I took a sip of my flask, shaking my head at the taste and then rolling my eyes. “I don’t think he’d trust me with a sharp stick.”

Mr. Gowan chuckled, and the guard to my left let out a sharp exhale of laughter too. I shrugged at the pair of them — the guard was named Harris — I was certain he flitted back and forth like Jamie did, but mostly he stayed near Mr. Gowan and I.

“I’m just saying,” I muttered, looking between the pair of them. “He obviously trusts me enough to stitch up Angus’ arm,” — who had stupidly, drunkenly, fallen into a log and gashed himself one evening — “but I can’t protect myself; especially from those bastard redcoats.”

Harris grunted, “We won’t let ‘em near ya’, lass.”

I made a stabbing motion with my free hand not on the reins. “They’d be lucky to get away alive.”

Mr. Gowan laughed louder, shaking his head and drawing the attention of the front of the party. Rupert glanced back and called backward, “What joke have we missed this time!”

“The lass is gonna stab the next lobsterback she sees!” Harris called back, grinning at me.

Murtagh’s laugh made me smile, it spreading to the front of the group. The only one who barely cracked was Dougal, but he did pull his horseback, slowing to join the center of the group.

“That right, lass?”

I turned and looked at him, patting my horse’s neck. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but we protect ourselves in the colonies, we don’t expect others to do it for us.” It was a half-truth — there had been many a night walking to my car from the mall with keys between my fingers and a surge of adrenaline every time I saw a man near me. But I was sure that anyone truly living at the beginning of America was just as cautious as I was. It wasn’t like history changed the fears that came with being a woman.

Dougal bent over and pulled a knife from his boot, flipping it around in his hand and holding the hilt out to me.

I gave him a cautious look before taking it. It was heavier than I expected, about the length of my forearm from hilt to tip. Raising my chin, I smiled at him. “Thank you, next redcoat, I see, I’ll give him a poke for you.”

The smile cracked through his features, but before he could laugh, Dougal resumed his position at the start of the party, shaking his head.

The evening’s town was larger and had an inn that Mr. Gowan could set up with. I finally sat down at a real table in days, the wall at my back as I watched a rush of townsfolk enter and exit, leaving empty-handed save for a few who stayed for beers.

Jamie took a seat next to me, to my surprise, and took a sip of whiskey from a dirty glass. His eyes were on Mr. Gowan, but he was speaking to me. “Do ye’ even know how to use a knife?”

“I can learn,” I answered evenly, still uncertain what I had done to distance him so much from me. My mind was split, one one hand he was dealing with larger farm animal trades — horses, oxes, cows — but on the other, he often took up the back or the front, never in the middle with me.

He shrugged. “Maybe ye’ should ask Harris.” Jamie nodded to the guard just behind Mr. Gowan, staring off into space, but still imposing enough to stop anyone from trying anything.

I choked on my own spit, staring at the side of Jamie’s head. “Are you _jealous_?” Suddenly his glass was the most interesting thing in the room and I scoffed even louder, putting my hands on the rough wooden table. “ _Jamie_.”

His ears were starting to tinge red and I shook my head at him, my voice low but serious. “Harris is kind, but has the mental capacity of a walnut.”

A smile twitched at the edges of Jamie’s lips, then he finally turned his head, leveling me with a look that sent my stomach fluttering. His eyes flickered over my face, then down to my dress and back up again. “Yer right, he’s strong but nah very bright.”

I rolled my eyes at him, taking his glass from his hand and downing a sip, “Men.”

He stole the glass back and finished it off, standing up again and casting me one more look before stepping outside to help tie up another horse we had been traded. As I sat at the table alone, I rested my chin on my hand, listening to the fire crackle and the Gaelic conversation, most of it went in one ear and out the other, but I could pick apart the basic structure of the sentences. I knew commands, much like a dog, to my chagrin — Come, go, stay.

It was late enough that there was no point in moving on to the next town or setting up camp in the countryside. Quickly the inn and tavern began to fill with townsfolk and members of our party. I moved from the larger table to one in a further corner, painfully away what women were here were with husbands. Murtagh took up the spot next to me, leaning against the wall with his foot propped up on the bench next to me.

I shot him a grateful look and he stared at his nails, picking dirt out from under them with his knife. Mr. Gowan’s rent collection had turned into Dougal buying ale and whiskey for some of the townsfolk. Then to Dougal speaking alone to the crowd, his voice low and Gaelic harsh on his tongue. I caught _sassenach_ — outlanders — and before I knew it, he was striding over to where Jamie was hunched over a table and ripping the shirt open on his back.

The crowd let out a collective gasp at the scars and I started to stand, but Murtagh put a hand on my shoulder, not casually pushing me back to my seat. Jamie’s jaw was set, anger in his eyes as he pushed off questions in Gaelic and English. Dougal’s voice carried over it, and I caught words, the English, lobsterbacks; then the townsfolk were opening their purses again and Mr. Gowan was putting it into the second leather pouch, meant for Dougal.

Jamie left the tavern and while a line formed to give coin to the men I was with, I bolted for the door, ending up in the cool evening air and searching frantically for where Jamie had gone. I couldn’t find him, instead, there were three men, speaking to each other in Gaelic before going quiet at the sight of me.

I raised my chin and gave them space as I passed. Their conversation resumed, but this time it was tinged in laughter, mocking tones and snide smiles. I didn’t care, I spotted Jamie finally tending to the horses, his tattered shirt in a wad on the end of one of the wagons. Striding over, I snatched it up and immediately went to my saddlebag. He watched me as I pulled out a needle and thread, beginning a shoddy job of repairing the long rip down the middle of the back.

“He’s doin’ it for the cause.” Jamie’s voice was low as he petted one of the stallions. “Donna mean I have to like his method.”

“You shouldn’t.” I didn’t look up as I tied off one of the strings with my teeth. “You’re not a ploy for more coin, you’re a human being.” The shirt was starting to look like it was being made for Quasimodo and I groaned and looked up at him. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

A hint of a smile graced his features and he stepped over to sit next to me. “Give it here.” I passed his shirt back over to him and he resumed the half I hadn’t stitched yet, his movements a little more graceful than mine, but still ragged. When he was done, he tugged the shirt over his head and shrugged. “It’ll do, _uan_.”

I fiddled with the needle in my hand and touched his back where the seams didn’t quite lay flat. “Is this what we have to look forward to until Fort William?”

Jamie sighed. “It’s Dougal’s way of gainin’ support, seeing the scars are a lot different then hearin’ about them.” He twisted and then looked at me from the side. “Jacobites need money for an army if we ever want the British to leave.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that they wouldn’t. They would never win, and thousands of lives would be lost on a hill just outside of Culloden, before life irreparably changed for Scottish people everywhere.

Instead, I stood again and gave him a soft smile. “Then I’ll be here, to sew up your shirt until the next rally.” I couldn’t read his expression as I stepped back to my horse to put the needle away. There were little moments, I decided, that I didn’t mind being out of time. Things were simpler here, all things considered. Bad guys, good guys, politics still overtaking the world — but at least it could be fought out with guns and swords.

We set out again and again, each day bringing more grain or animals to the wagons, and more coin split between rent and Dougal’s pockets. I stayed away from the taverns as much as I could muster, sitting near the guard stationed outside, who was often one of our party. If it wasn’t, I stayed inside at the back and looked away before Dougal could trot Jamie out like a show pony.

I figured it had easily been over a month since I had arrived through the stones, but I didn’t think about them much, only in passing when I felt out of place. At least I tended to fit in for the most part, the only part of me that didn’t was whenever I opened my mouth. My accent drew more than a few looks, it was tried and true southern, no hint of any country that existed now, but the areas were remote and most just accepted it as a quirk of a colonist.

One of the larger towns we came across had the best turn out. Coins almost began to come out of pockets before Jamie could get his shirt off, and Dougal stepped back with a hint of pride on his face as Mr. Gowan began to count everything that was coming in.

Across the room, a man spat something in Gaelic, harsh and under his breath. Jamie’s head shot up as the man’s friend echoed the sentiment. Their eyes were on me.

The rage was evident on Jamie’s face as he rose and slammed his fist into the other man’s stomach, making him double over in pain as the other shouted at him and then jumped into the fray. I sat back, unable to keep the horror off my face as Murtagh rolled up his sleeves, grumbled, and then joined in.

No one else seemed to take offense to the all-out brawl happening on the tavern floor, some townsfolk were taking the opportunity to place bets, whether it be on the locals who were getting the literal snot kicked out of them or Jamie and Murtagh who were holding themselves far better than the others.

Dougal stayed quiet, surveying it as he sipped his whiskey, then caught my eye and winked.

I stared at the pile of bloody noses, busted jaws, and swollen eyes with confusion as the men finally begged off in Gaelic, moving away from where Jamie and Murtagh stepped back. Jamie collapsed onto the bench in front of me and I shifted around the table, checking him over before doing the same to Murtagh who waved my hands away from his bloody nose.

“What the fuck was that?” I tried to keep my voice low as I stared at them both. “Are you trying to get beaten up?”

Jamie clicked his tongue. “Still na’ picked up Gaelic, have ye’?”

“A bit.” I admitted, wiping at the cut above his brow and then turning my attention to Murtagh’s knuckles, cleaning them as best as I could and disinfecting them with some alcohol. “Not when anyone talks that fast.”

“We were defending yer honor.” Murtagh finally grumbled, raising his jaw as he watched the other five men they had taken on stumble out of the tavern. “Had ta’ do that more times than I’d like.”

“Oh,” I pulled away from him, letting his hand drop back down before I shook my head at the two of them. “Should have let me get a stab in.”

Jamie let out a bark of laughter and then pulled me against him with one arm, glee evident in his eyes as he grinned at me. “Not a chance, _uan_.”

That night the innkeeper’s family insisted I sleep upstairs, their attic space small but fit enough for a bed. It was the most isolated I had been since the first inn we had come to weeks ago and I couldn’t settle. It was far away from everyone and everything, even though I could hear movement downstairs as party members settled and drinks were finally sat down for the night.

I was sitting near the only window when I heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. Against my thigh, I had tied the knife from Dougal with a piece of scrap leather. It didn’t leave my body, and now I felt for it, wrapping my hand around the hilt as the footsteps stopped when a board creaked. Standing slowly, I raised my head, the light from the window enough that I could see the door and hear as someone fumbled for the latch to open it.

Nothing had bolts here, and I unsheathed the blade.

As the door opened, I shifted out of the moonlight and against the wall. A vague shadowed figure seemed to look inside before the door shut again. Confusion set in as I stared at the door, then stepped over, knife out as I jolted it open and promptly was met with Jamie standing in the doorway.

He yelped, the knife centimeters from his just repaired shirt. “Ay, what’s this, _uan_! Yer gonna kill someone!”

I stepped back and glared up at him, pulling the knife back as I hissed my next words. “I thought _you_ were going to kill _me_.”

“Why would I try to kill ye’?” His words were clipped too, frustration in them as we stared at each other. “I was tryin’ to sleep, keep a watch outside yer room.”

I rolled my eyes, pushing the knife back into the spot on my thigh without thinking. When I looked back up, he was slack jaw in the dim lighting at the lift of my shift and exposure of my thigh.

“Stop,” I muttered softly, looking away. “It’s just my leg.”

He blinked a little slowly, staring at me stupidly for another moment before shaking his head. “Indeed, it is.”

I turned and grabbed one of the dusty furs off the bed and threw it at him before my hand came down on the door. I meant to close it in his face, but I hesitated and looked at him strangely. “Why were you keeping watch?”

Jamie’s expression sobered up considerably. “English dragoons arrived a wee bit ago, some of ‘em already, ay —“ He hesitated, then cleared his throat, “— _acquainted_ with the women of the town.”

My stomach turned and I nodded, stepping to the side. “Fair enough, come in.”

He gave me an alarmed look. “I cannae sleep in the same room as ye’, lass.” He was astonished, his eyes wide as he stared at me. “I — it wouldn’t be proper.”

“Jamie,” I was trying to be patient, but it was wearing thin. “Sleep on the floor.”

“Ay, but yer reputation —“

“ _What_ reputation?” I rebuked, leaning against the door as I stared up at him. “I think you made it very clear to everyone when you beat those men bloody that no one was to talk, touch, or look at me.”

He seemed to settle with that, fingering at the fur before stepping just inside the door and setting up a little pallet where the door would hit him if anyone stumbled upstairs during the night. I actually fell asleep in the bed, the comfort of the sound of someone else breathing enough to stave off my own anxieties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by all the love this story has gotten! Thank you all so, so much! I've expanded the number of chapters I plan to write, just because I know the plot definitely won't end by the next part.


	5. 5 | Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Jonathan Randall has questions for an American colonist seen with Scotsmen.

The next small towns went much the same, except Mr. Gowan recruited me to help tally up the rent and take off small percentages for the Jacobite cause. Once Dougal caught sight of me counting coins and dutifully splitting everything off, he seemed to relax more around me. It wasn’t my cause to speak about, but I did start listening to the Gaelic a little more, trying to understand what roused everyone in the speeches Dougal made.

As we neared Fort William, the number of redcoats we saw on the road drastically raised. We stopped staying in the inns, sticking to the countryside off the road. I assumed it was half for the price on Jamie’s head and half for the questions that would come down on why an American colonist was traveling with a MacKenzie brigade.

I laid a lot under the stars, listening to the noises of the men around me, sighing and breathing hard as some slept, then the soft noises of whittling or chatter between the guards who were keeping an eye out. I almost preferred the outside more then the inns, I didn’t feel like the safety could be shattered at any moment, at least under the stars I was aware I was at the mercy of the elements and if redcoats happened to pass by. The inns provided too much of a false sense of security — or the vague feeling they were even less safe than the open road. At least I could trust the men around me now, I couldn’t know what the townsfolk would do after a few drinks.

Most of the time I was awake before the sun rose, on my horse and alert for the next town. I didn’t feel _needed_ necessarily, but that I was useful to Mr. Gowan. He seemed pleased that I could do more than the simple math necessary and that I was willing to help him write ledgers and organize everything for our eventual return to Castle Leoch.

We were three days out from Fort William when we stopped for the evening. It was really barely dusk, but Dougal looked tired after the last few houses we collected from. One of the families brought what they could give, but he gave it back to them and told them not to go hungry for the week. My respect for him grew a bit more as I watched the farmer choke back his emotions, instead thanking Dougal gruffly and turning his son away as they returned to their home with their few shillings and grain.

Angus had started a fire and I found a spot in the grass in front of it, pulling my knees up to my chest and arranging the traveler’s dress I wore so I didn’t accidentally become “indecent” — not as if it mattered. I was constantly blown away by just how much respect they all had for me, though maybe the bar was on the floor and blew away in the dust the moment they became intoxicated. I didn’t count that.

Near the horses, as Dougal unpacked his bedroll, Jamie was faced away from me, his shoulders raised as they talked about something harshly, going back and forth to each other in Gaelic. When I turned my head back around, Murtagh and Rupert had joined the circle, Mr. Gowan on his way after finishing the ledgers for the day.

“What are they fighting about?” I cautioned a glance back at Dougal and Jamie again, then returned to looking at the men near me. “I caught _dearg_.” As much as I had heard it, I knew it meant redcoats.

Murtagh made a face, pulling out the small piece of wood he’d been whittling for two straight nights. It was starting to take the shape of a bear and my mind immediately went to _Brave_ , but no one would get the reference so I’d stayed quiet over it.

Angus nodded his head toward them. “The lad pledged ‘imself to Colum before we left, his ma’ were ken; Dougal’s jus’ reminding the lad of it. Probably shouldna say more than that.”

I looked over at Murtagh, the only other one who wore the Fraser colors, but his eyes were focused on the piece of wood. Pulling my knees closer, I rested my chin on them and smiled sweetly. “Murtagh…”

“Na’.” He raised the hand that had the knife and pointed it at me just as Mr. Gowan joined us. “Ye’ learn Gaelic if ye’ want to know what’s being said.”

“Fine.” I turned my attention to the solicitor, the smile never wavering. “Do _you_ know what Jamie and Dougal are fighting about?”

Mr. Gowan’s face twisted back and forth, I could see the war within himself. He did love to gossip on long rides, telling me all about the cases and people he saw when he had a little office in Edinburgh with lace curtains. But this was different, this was clan business, or something akin to it. I just couldn’t stand being out of the loop this much.

He finally sighed, “Best to stay out of this one, lass.”

I groaned and pushed myself up from the grass. “Okay, I’m going to the river to wash myself off, if anyone needs me, just shout. In English preferably, since I can’t understand anything else.” It was a petty comment, but none of them said a word as I half stomped, half walked over the cusp of the small hill and started a slightly muddy descent to the riverbank.

Thankfully, I only skidded down the last few feet, saving myself and my dress from a deeper clean than just washing off. Bending down in front of the river, I dipped my hands into the frigid water and started to wash my arms off, splashing my face a few times for good measure.

“Careful of the frogs, _uan_.”

Jamie’s deep voice startled me and my foot slipped, sending me landing in a pile of mud as I stared up at him in shock. Like a cat, he had appeared silently, nearly at the bank with me without even alerting me he was near.

My jaw dropped slightly as I groaned and pushed myself up. “Thank you, now I have to find a way to clean this in the next town.”

His brows knitted together as he stepped forward and helped me back up, bending down to gather some water and then letting it run over my hands and arms. “Next one is Brockton,” He wasn’t looking at me, which I now understood was the tell-tale sign something was on his mind. “May be a kind woman there to help ye’.”

I brushed my hands off, standing in front of him and frowning. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

He looked up at me, his shoulders slightly bowed before he straightened up. I always had to remind myself he was truly as tall as he was — nearly six-four, from what I could gather, he tended to tower over anyone and was built like an inverted triangle. Even all the nights I saw him without a shirt, it was mostly sitting, which made him seem smaller, it fit the part Dougal wanted him to play better — the martyr and example for the Jacobite cause.

Jamie rubbed his jaw and then looked away again, gritting his teeth. “I donna understand how ye’ just… _know_ things.”

I bent down again and finished washing my hands off, letting him have a little internal struggle. “Well, the Gaelic fights between you and Dougal aren’t subtle and none of the other men would tell me what was being said.” I stood up again, my hands and arms mostly clean again, brushing what I could off the back of my dress. “And you’re here, which means you wanted to talk to me away from everyone else.”

He looked truly annoyed when his eyes met mine again. Then he seemed to give up and stepped away, finding a flat rock near the bank and sitting down on it. Jamie patted the spot next to him and I stepped over, taking my seat.

It took him another moment to gather his thoughts, then he turned, his jaw set as he looked over my face, lingering on my eyes, nose, lips — then back up to stare at me.

“The garrison commander from Fort William is in Brockton.” He pressed his lips together, forehead tight. “Dougal says ye’ should go in town with him, before yer seen with us in town.”

I shifted on the rock, pulling one leg under myself as I frowned. “I’m not British, why would it matter if they saw me with you? They don’t know me from Mary.”

His jaw seemed to grow tighter. “His soldiers already saw ye’, when we left the last inn. Heard ye’ talking to me, I reckon Dougal wants to prevent any surprises our last three days to Fort William.”

My stomach dropped. I knew the exact conversation he was talking about. We left the attic bedroom at the same time, much to Jamie’s embarrassment and my insistence it was fine. I had teased him ruthlessly as we left the inn to find the others readying the horses to go, and there had been three men having breakfast as we left. Of course my voice would carry and my accent cause confusion.

“What do I say to them?” I swallowed hard enough that my throat hurt. “I mean, what do I do to make them understand I’m here with all of you by choice? They _shot_ me, Jamie.” I raised my arm defiantly, where there was a small bandage wrapped where the skin was still healing. It had scabbed nicely, but the divot would forever be in my arm where the skin and muscle had been blown away.

His face twisted as he looked at my arm. “I told Dougal I can take ye’, we can travel ahead, or turn around with a few guard, they’ll never know where ye’ went and would never have the sacks to come to Colum’s door.” Jamie swallowed harshly, “but Dougal said no.”

I felt like there was another shoe that hadn’t dropped and my stomach flipped as the words left my mouth. “Is… Is the commander the one you warned me about? The one who…” I trailed off, unable to even speak about his back.

“Ay.” Jamie looked away again. “Captain Jonathan Randall.” The name was dripping with disdain. “I cannae stand the thought of ye’ gettin’ hurt.”

I reached out and touched his arm, then slid my fingers down until they found his. He turned and looked at me again, then looked down at our hands. Gently squeezing his fingers, I smiled at him gently. “I won’t, I promised you I’d get a good stab in.”

He didn’t find the remark funny, instead he covered my hand with his other one, then lifted it. I didn’t realize, until he had my palm on top of his, just how much smaller my hand was compared to his, fair-skinned and soft. It didn’t even resemble the other women I had met and seen, they spent hard and long days farming, gardening, cooking, cleaning — I had lived life easily for twenty-four years and it was reflected in my skin.

“Jamie,” I said his name softly, clearing my throat to get his attention. “Jamie Fraser.”

His eyes raised to meet mine, unfathomably blue.

“I will come back from Brockton.” I promised, pressing my fingers against his, “No British captain, redcoats, highwaymen, or other will stop me.”

I set my bedroll away from the others that night, the only one near me being Jamie. It wasn’t like we were around the corner from them all, both of us were still in plain view of every guard and watchful eye. I just couldn’t imagine laying next to a dying fire with the other men surrounding me. It felt like I would wake up and ride to my death.

Though we weren’t touching, Jamie’s arm was outstretched, just inches from my hand resting in the grass.

In the morning, Dougal and I saddled up and rode out, leaving the rest of the camp. Brockton was barely an hour away, through easy roads and countryside. He didn’t speak and I was too nauseous to say anything more than a quick thank you as he led me to the town’s inn where officers were stationed outside.

We both dismounted and I did my best to look presentable as we walked inside.

Dougal left me downstairs at a table alone, with three English dragoons glancing over from the other side of the room. The nerves pricked at my skin, reminding me they were not the Scotsmen I had traveled with, they weren’t trustworthy, they weren’t Jamie.

Dougal reappeared halfway down the steps and motioned me to follow him. At the top, the guard stationed at the door opened it and beckoned me inside, shutting it before Dougal could follow me.

Captain Jonathan Randall had a thin, fox-like face, with a white powdered wig and a sharp smile. He reminded me of too many people, none good, but mostly, his face made my stomach twist into tighter knots, alarm bells ringing in my head as he turned and looked me slowly up and down.

“Miss Thompson.” His voice was even, motioning me to sit down in front of the desk he was behind. “Why don’t you sit and tell me who you are and how you came to find yourself traveling with the MacKenzie clan?”

I sat down carefully, squaring my shoulders as I repeated the same story I had given Colum. My parents were dead, I was sent to Scotland to find distant relatives, but was born and raised in the colonies, Georgia if he must know —

He cut me off. “Certainly, you’re aware any citizen of the colonies is also a citizen of the crown.”

I felt the sudden urge to throw the tea he was drinking into his smug face.

“I’m aware,” I stared him down, “as my father came from Scotland, my ties do, rightfully, default to his clan and his people.”

The Captain smiled, it twitching on the edges of his lips. “Perhaps, but we both know that the…” He trailed off, sighing, “good men of the MacKenzie clan are vocal about their dislike of the crown.”

“I wouldn’t know.” I refused to break his gaze, “I can’t speak Gaelic, they could be talking about the weather for all I know.”

The illusion of patience faded in his expression as Captain Randall tilted his head. “You are not helping your case by becoming frivolous with me, Miss Thompson. You have been seen currently with no less than the Laird’s brother, war chieftain of Clan MacKenzie and according to a very certain soldier of mine — a known criminal with no less than ten thousand shillings on his head.”

I stared at him, my jaw set so tight I felt it crack. “All I want is to resume my journey with the MacKenzies peacefully. I see no reason for you to object.”

“Corporal,” All mirth was gone from Captain Randall’s eyes as he looked to the other man in the room, just a soldier who had been tensely standing not too far away. “Please step forward for a moment.”

I turned my head, watching cautiously as the man stepped forward. Captain Randall grabbed me by the arm, causing me to suck a breath in harshly as he grabbed the bandage and threw me towards the corporal.

“Hold her arms, sir.” Captain Randall carefully rolled up both sleeves, his voice dark. “I am the captain of this garrison and I will be respected as I ensure that no criminal activity takes place here, either by spy or by Scotsman, and certainly not by a common American colonist.”

He raised his hand and struck me hard enough across the cheek that my head felt woozy, the room spinning as the corporal had to hold me up. Even he flinched as Captain Randall did it again, the crack echoing across the room as I gasped.

The Captain stepped back, nodding to the corporal who let me fall to the floor on my knees. I sucked in a breath, touching my cheek tenderly as I looked up at him.

“You’re a fucking monster.”

“Now,” Captain Randall inhaled, “those are no words for a lady.” He pulled his arm back and hit me in the stomach. All the air left my body as I dropped to my side, wheezing as tears filled my eyes. I managed to make it to my hands and knees as the Captain turned away to roll his sleeves back down.

I slipped my hand under my dress, wrapping my hand around the hilt of the knife, seeing red. So what if I got a price on my head too — I would at least get a good —

The corporal, who was young and seemed uneasy with Randall’s actions, gently took me by the elbow and helped me stand. The vertigo of movement made me wobbly and I forgot all about revenge as I just tried to stay upright. Captain Randall turned back around and looked me over.

“Anything more to discuss, Miss Thompson?”

I had too many things to say to him, more than one that would probably cause another blow to my stomach, but the door banged open, the guard on the other side looking bewildered and overwhelmed as Dougal burst in. He took one look at me and began shouting at the Captain, half in English, but tinged with Gaelic that I knew didn’t translate to anything savory.

He took me by the arm, the corporal having the good graces to step back, and pulled me out of the room and downstairs. I was once again, left wavering in the tavern’s main room alone as Dougal returned upstairs, the shouting growing louder as the two men argued.

The man tending the bar wouldn’t raise his eyes to look at me, neither would the officers sitting a table away.

When Dougal reappeared with heavy footfalls, Captain Randall was just behind him, still angrily raising his voice over something about Fort William. Dougal didn’t turn to look at the man, instead returning to my side and taking my arm, he was a thousand times more gentle than he had before, hustling me outside to our horses.

I felt like I couldn’t sit astride the saddle, but I did it anyway to leave Brockton, galloping next to Dougal as we hit the main road and continued hard until we hit the countryside not thirty minutes later. Then my companion began to slow and led the horses to a steep crevice. He dismounted and looked at me to follow him.

With some trouble, I did, picking my way down a steep embankment to follow him to a foul, sulfuric smelling river that was running at the very bottom. I didn’t care, I dropped to my knees and pressed my hands into the stone embankment before gathering some water and drinking it. Pressing a cool hand against my neck, I inhaled deeply, the ache in my stomach mostly gone, but the shock lingering.

When I looked over at Dougal, he was crossing himself before drinking from the same water. He looked at me after swallowing, then looked at the water. “Ye’ know, lass, I never ken to think you to face a bastard like that without faltering.”

“Then you clearly don’t know me.” I wiped at my face, gritting my teeth. “If you hadn’t walked in, I was already planning how many slashes I was going to get in before the corporal tore me off of him.”

Dougal smiled at me, “Probably less than one.”

“Probably,” I admitted, “but it would have been worth it to just draw blood.”

He stared at me for a solid minute, his eyes not pulling from mine until he quietly admitted. “Ye’ remind me of Jamie.” The statement took me so off guard that I paused in wiping the water off my hands. Then Dougal spurred forward, his voice taking on a different tone as he explained he had been there for Jamie’s lashing, every gory detail leaving Dougal’s lips until I felt nauseous all over again.

“And as they helped the lad, bloody footprints and all, off that stage, Jamie’s eyes never left Randall’s, both of them wi’ a fierceness I don’t ken I’ve ever seen before.” Dougal shrugged his shoulders, “Defiance.”

I swallowed, the image of Jamie bloodied and clinging to a pole as Randall mercilessly whipped him until his skin fell off in chunks was burned into my mind. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Because,” Dougal took a seat on a rock as I stayed standing on the bank, “Captain Randall made it very clear I was to hand ye’ over in three days at Fort William for questioning. According to him, yer a colonist, a British citizen, and not to be travelin’ with sort like the MacKenzies any longer.”

I felt faint and before I knew it I was sinking to my knees. He jumped up from the rock, his voice sounding far away. “Now lass, put your head down between yer legs, don’t faint on me.”

I followed his instructions, curling up into a ball as my head spun. There had been an unhinged glint in Randall’s eyes. Whatever questions he had for me wouldn’t be over tea, and I highly doubted they would be even half as pleasant as the meeting today.

One of his hands touched my back, rubbing it half-heartedly. “Ay, there ye’ go.”

I lifted my head, staring at him. “I would rather die than be handed over to him, Dougal.”

“I know, lass.” He pulled his hand away. “The only one way I see out of this is by turning you from a colonist to a Scotsman.” He gave me a wary look as I raised an eyebrow, not following. “The Scottish and English rules are very similar, ye’ see, all focused on birth until marriage.”

I raised my chin, staring at Dougal as he took two steps back from me and sat back on the rock.

“An English officer cannae take a Scot from their clan land without proof of a serious crime.” He cleared his throat, “not without permission of tha’ Laird, ye’ see. And accordin’ to Mr. Gowan, the one way to keep ye’ from going straight to Randall is to turn ye’ into a Scot.”

I swallowed bile, “By marriage.”

“Ay,” Dougal nodded, “By marrying a Scot, our lad Jamie.”

I tucked my head back between my knees, dry heaving as bile rose back into my throat. I’m not sure Dougal knew what to do, even I wasn’t sure what to do as I very clearly began to have a panic attack, my entire body shaking as I pulled my head to the side and threw up what little had remained on my stomach since the night before.

“Jamie’s a good lad,” he finally spoke again, “a good fighter, maybe not in possession of money or land, but he’ll protect ye’ until his last breath.”

I couldn’t think, my mouth tasted sulfurous and acidic as I pushed myself back up to shaky legs. “I think I’m ready to go back to camp.”

Dougal stood from his position on the rock and cast another look at the river before leading us back to the horses. We rode in silence as I tried to process what was being asked of me — told for me to do. Was this what they fought over last night? Was this what Jamie knew I was walking into but couldn’t say it?

We reached the camp, half packed up, but still lingering, clearly waiting for our return. I flew off my horse faster than I ever had, throwing the reins into the hands of a guard as I stormed forward my eyes on Jamie.

I had forgotten the blows on my face, but clearly they were evident as he dropped the apple in his hands and stood, rage behind his expression as he turned to look at Dougal. Then suddenly Jamie turned and cupped my cheeks. I stopped short, holding my breath as he gently ran his fingers across my skin, his eyes flickering over me, checking for other damage.

“Ay, where else,” He fumbled for a moment, “wee lamb, what did tha’ bastard _do_.”

All the anger that I had misdirected towards him faded as quickly as it had come. I closed my eyes and dropped my face further into his touch, my hands shaking. “Dougal… he said, I’m supposed to go to Randall at Fort William — but —“

One of Jamie’s thumbs ran over the top of my cheek and I raised my eyes to look at him. He knew, it was written all over his face as he nodded silently.

When he spoke, his voice was quieter, low. “I have no promises or prospects ta’ give ye’, lass. With a price on my head and no land or shillings more than a soldier’s pay, I ken I’m not a good option.” He gave me a rueful smile, then it faded into something more genuine. “But I cannae promise you that I’ll be good to you, as good as I reckon. I only intend on marrying once, so I ought to make it a good one. As long as ye’ll have me.”

I stared up at him, watching as his eyes searched mine, before barely nodding, my mouth dry. It was suddenly this or a British jail, this or Randall’s cruel smile, this or a fate worse than any of the others I had already conquered in the last month. But in my heart, I knew this option wasn’t even bad, just startling and jarring. It was just incredibly real and so sudden that processing it wasn’t an option.

Jamie’s expression didn’t waver as he carefully touched my jaw. There was nothing more to say and he seemed to know this fact. Still, he gave me the sweetest smile, touching my chin once more, like he couldn’t stop himself now that he’d finally allowed himself to touch me. He watched me for another moment before whispering. “I’ll keep ye’ safe, _uan_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely no one is prepared for the next chapter.


	6. 6 | Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A marriage is signed on the dotted line.

The entire party traveled past Brockton to the next town. It seemed as if Dougal didn’t want to waste any time, or risk Captain Randall going back on his three day deadline. I didn’t bother to learn the name of where we were as I was ushered to the inn where Mr. Gowan began to prepare a marriage contract.

I felt like I was living outside my body. A woman came to the bedroom at the inn, her smile happy and her demeanor boisterous as she insisted on helping me clean up. Another woman and a girl who looked only a few years younger than me were close behind. All of them had tasks to do, it seemed as the MacKenzies were preparing the legality of the situation, but they had recruited others to make this feel as real as possible.

I wasn’t sure if I was grateful, or ready to brave the highlands myself as a runaway bride.

They scrubbed my skin pink with rags, washing my hair with warm water, and focusing on every little detail. I couldn’t help but zone out, too worried and focused on the fact I would be married by the end of the day.

“Do ye’ prefer yer hair down?” The girl smiled up at me, her expression was careful as I was startled out of my thoughts. “I want to make it how ye’d like.”

I caught a glimpse of myself in the tarnished mirror of the vanity. My cheeks were slimmer, the roundness of my face must have disappeared over the past seven weeks, and I nearly didn’t recognize myself. I hesitated, stepping closer carefully so I could see more of myself in the mirror, for the first time I felt like I was aware of how I had changed.

My hair had gone from daily washes to the occasional warm baths at the castle and on the road, leaving it very gently spiraled and waved. Even in the thin shift dress, I could see where the heightened activity and life on the road had changed how I carried myself. I seemed taller, more sure of myself, even though my thoughts were running rampant.

“Leave it down.” I looked back to her, reaching up to touch my hair self-consciously. “Thank you for asking.”

The girl seemed shocked I thanked her, but beamed up at me as she carefully began to pin it back, but low, leaving just a couple pieces to wisp around my face and forehead. It ended up beautiful, complimenting the dress that Dougal had somehow managed to scrounge up.

I didn’t want to ask where the dress came from, it had a questionable smell when Rupert brought it into the room, but the three women who were helping me opened the windows upstairs and helped beat the fine layer of dust off of it. They were adamant it needed to hang for some of the creases in the fabric, and carefully balanced it over one of the bed frame’s beams.

In the waning sunlight, I finally got a good look at the dress as it hung off the top of the bed. The shape was the same as any of the other dresses I had since arriving in 1743, but this time it was made of a beautiful mixture of silk and embroidery. At the bodice, there were faint wisps of embroidered heather in a faded lavender thread, light green stems, and leaves around it. It stopped before reaching the sides and sleeves, which weren’t as fitted as others. They were loose like the sleeves of my traveling dress, fanning out at the end with small lace details around the cuffs.

It took all three of the women to help me into the corset, then the padding under the dress, before the final garment was slid over my head carefully. I didn’t look at myself in the small mirror, turning my head away as one of the women carefully applied rouge to my cheeks and kohl to my eyes. The girl helped tie the dress backing, tightening the strings until I felt like the dress was holding me up more than I was holding myself up.

There was a knock on the door and I turned to look as Dougal stepped in. He raised his eyebrows at me and hesitated.

I smoothed out the skirt self-consciously. “Is he going to run at the sight of me?”

A small smile flickered at the edges of his lips. “Na’, lassie.”

“Good,” I swallowed, smiling at him partially. “It’s getting late.” It was true, dusk was almost on Scotland, the afternoon sun growing deeper. It wasn’t quite golden hour yet, and butterflies nervously fluttered in my stomach as I thought about being married in such a short amount of time.

Dougal stepped in fully, Mr. Gowan behind him with Rupert in tow. Rupert took a step, saw me, then paused and shot a look to Dougal. I lifted the skirts at the sight of the paper Mr. Gowan was holding and took a deep breath as I stepped forward.

“Hand me the ink.”

Mr. Gowan fumbled for a moment, then handed me the quill to sign the marriage contract. It was blank, meaning they hadn’t made it to Jamie yet.

I used the vanity to bear down on, bending over slightly to dip the quill in a small bottle of black ink that Mr. Gowan had just been using to write down grain sack inventory. With a flourish of my hand, uncomfortable with the quill, I wrote out my name and then blew on it lightly to let it dry.

When I turned back around, all three of them were giving me variations of the same surprised look.

I held the page back out to Mr. Gowan.

“It’s a little late for me to fight any of you on this.” As he took it from me, I resisted crossing my arms. “I might as well sign it before I’m getting married in the dark and can’t even see anything.”

Dougal hummed and shrugged a little. “Well, we’ll be off then. Gotta find tha’ lad for his.”

I wrung my hands together, swallowing hard. “Wait.”

He hesitated, looking back at me with his hand on the door.

“Is he okay?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, he’s not being forced into this?”

Dougal leveled my nerves with a look. “He knows this is what needs to be done.” With that, he pulled the wooden door closed again, leaving me again with the three strangers as they insisted it was time for me to slip my feet into the flat silk slippers they had. They didn’t fit well and I finally looked at myself in the vanity.

When they excused themselves, I sat down in front of the vanity with what makeup they left and fixed my eyes to a softer line of kohl, barely there. I brushed off most of the rouge, my cheeks red enough from the stress of the day, leaning back to look at myself and taking a deep breath.

Closing my eyes, I bent my head down. I wasn’t sure if I should pray or just hope that whatever happened this evening and the days following would go simply, or if I should be focusing all my energy into leaving Scotland. I didn’t have time to think, however, because Dougal returned.

He motioned for me to follow him and I stood up from the vanity. Swallowing hard, I stepped out of the room and began the descent to the inn’s main room, which doubled as the town’s tavern. Below, Angus stopped mid-drink, spluttering around his whiskey as I grasped at the banister to keep myself on my feet as I reached the ground floor.

A few of the town drunks were staring as well and I raised my chin, looking at Dougal. “Alright, let’s go.”

“If I didn’t ken ye’, I’d think ye’ were eager.” He started the small wedding party towards the door.

I was focused on not stumbling in the tight slippers, but it didn’t stop me from snorting. “I’m —“ none of the words that were coming to me were proper in the slightest. I settled. “I’m terrified.” Jamie was nowhere to be found, and I was certain that the modern notion of not seeing the bride before the wedding didn’t apply.

A small part of me was hoping he had cut and run.

“Well, you look beautiful.” Mr. Gowan assured me, patting my arm as he stepped out of the tavern in front of me.

I swallowed as I followed him, the warm light outside turning golden as I spotted Murtagh first. He was standing just across the path in front of a small home. I gave him a soft smile as he looked at me and smiled back, a far cry from the moment we met each other on the battlefield.

Mr. Gowan and Rupert split off, walking up the path already and I looked after them confused. Dougal cleared his throat and I turned my head just as the door opened to the home across the path.

Jamie stepped out, fully dressed in the Fraser tartan, Highlander through and through. He, too, had been scrubbed within an inch of his life, slight stubbled face glinting as the sunlight caught his tanned skin and smoothed red curls. From his polished brown boots, the Fraser tartan glinting with deep green, red, and blues, and finally the tucked white shirt — I was left speechless.

He swallowed when our eyes finally met and I felt my hands start to shake as he crossed the small path to stand in front of me, still one step above him.

Jamie raised his hand off the sword at his belt and then carefully reached out to touch mine. I stepped forward, careful as I met him on the ground. Tipping my head up, I hazarded a smile, swallowing hard as we stared at each other.

“ _Bòidheach_.” He wrapped his hands around mine, smiling at me as he whispered the word in Gaelic. I wasn’t certain what it meant, but I could guess.

Staring at him, I felt some nerves settle at the same time others seemed to get worse. This was happening, but it seemed a hair easier now that he was in front of me.

“Alright, let’s go,” Dougal muttered, waving us forward.

Jamie shifted from holding my hands to carefully taking my elbow. I was grateful for a moment as I found my footing again on the uneven road. Dougal was a few steps in front of us, so I sucked in a breath and turned to look at the man beside me.

His eyes were still on me, and he cleared his throat and licked his lips.

I laughed softly, looking down at the road for a moment, careful of rocks before looking back up at him.

“The Fraser colors look incredible.” I finally whispered, smiling at him as I reached out and touched the portion that was draped and pinned over his shoulder and on his chest.

“Ay,” He cleared his throat as we walked. “Murtagh found a woman in town — her husband was distantly related — he uh — had no need for it anymore.”

I laughed a little louder this time, shaking my head as he stumbled over his words. “Oh, so you grave robbed for our wedding.”

Jamie opened his mouth, then closed it. With a frown, he stared at me. “I dinnae take it off the poor bastard’s corpse.”

“That’s okay,” I held in a snort. “I think my dress is from a whore.”

Jamie tossed his head back as he laughed loudly, shaking his head as he looked back down at me. “We make a pair then, _uan_.”

“We do.” I swallowed the words, holding onto his elbow as I looked up to see a small church, tucked into the woods with a rounded roof and heather overgrowing all around it, reaching out onto the path. I hesitated and Jamie stopped as I stepped towards the edge of the path.

He reached over and plucked a piece of heather from the overgrown plants. Twisting it between his fingers, he shifted, letting my hand drop from his arm as he leaned over and carefully slid it into the pinned section of hair at the back of my head.

I looked up at him, smiling as his cheeks flushed in the dimming light.

“Perfect.”

I took his arm again, my heart in my throat as we entered the church together. At the front was a captive priest, Rupert standing too near to him for the nervous sheen on the priest’s face to be a coincidence.

I had imagined this day more times than I could count, standing here in a small church, in front of men who I had only met a little over a month ago had never been a part of the fantasy. Growing up, my parents had insisted on being active in church as much as we could before their various illnesses began, which meant the fantasy had changed in recent years.

Before my father had died unexpectedly, I had just wished to find someone, even if it _was_ quick, just so I could have the experience I had constantly seen others have. At least having both parents at my wedding would have been a worthy memory.

This time, I had none, not a single soul of my family could even venture to grace this place for almost three hundred years.

The newly lain wooden floorboards creaked softly underfoot as I turned to look at Jamie. He gave me a soft, supportive smile as the priest began his portion of the ceremony. Together, Jamie and I knelt in front of the altar, a foreign process for me as I had never been Catholic a day in my life, but it didn’t seem to matter. Both the priest and Jamie seemed to be radiating with nerves.

Our hands stayed clasped, holding onto each other until it was time for the vows. We both stood, and Jamie let go of my hands briefly to clear his throat. As he repeated after the priest, I felt my heart hammer faster in my chest.

He reached back out and I took his fingers in mine, squeezing as he cleared his throat.

“I take thee, Willa.”

Waning shadows were creeping through the stained glass window behind the priest, blue and green glass depicting John the Baptist falling on the silk sleeves of my gown. It was my turn.

“I take thee, Jamie.”

As much as I tried, my voice shook, flimsier than the wind as I finished the vows. Jamie’s hands grasped mine harder as the priest asked for the rings and I felt nauseous and stricken for a moment. I didn’t have a ring for him, I didn’t have _anything_ for him.

Murtagh stepped forward, two rings in his hand, silver freshly hammered from something else as Jamie reached forward and took the smaller one from his hand. He told the other Fraser a quiet thank you as I carefully took the larger of the rings.

Twisting it around in my fingers, I didn’t get a chance to look at it closely before the priest was encouraging Jamie to slide the one in his hand onto mine.

I swallowed as he very carefully took my left hand in both of his. He was gentle as he slid the silver ring all the way down my finger, then patted my hand gently. I did the same to him, shifting the larger ring down his finger before looking up at him.

The priest cleared his throat, “You may now kiss your bride.”

Jamie hesitated, then let go of my hands. Silence hung in the air, time frozen as he reached up and touched my cheek, brushing back a piece of hair before drawing me into him.

His lips tasted like whiskey, hard and sweet as I took a half step forward, falling against him as my eyes shut. His head tilted, shifting to pull me closer with his hand as we kissed. Every second, I expected to feel the same overwhelming whirling of being thrown through time, like the very commitment of him touching me would throw me back to the moment in time I actually belonged.

It didn’t.

We each pulled away with a little gasp, and I reached up, touching my lips unconsciously as I felt my neck grow warm. At some point, the rest of the church, including the small group of witnesses we had amassed, had given a rousing Scottish cheer, clapping and hollering at us.

I thought it was over, but Jamie took my elbow gently before I could turn. Dougal appeared, drawing the dirk from Jamie’s hip. With a violent slash, he cut Jamie’s wrist open and I looked up in shock, not quick enough to pull my hand back before Dougal was repeating the process on my wrist.

Tears welled in my eyes from the shock of the moment as he pressed our wrists together and I wavered. Jamie’s other hand reached over to steady me, eyes wide and deep. “Yer alright, _uan_.”

Dougal tied our wrists together with a piece of white linen and then there were more words, Scottish Gaelic foreign on my tongue as I repeated after Jamie.

I fumbled, clearing my throat trying to get them right, and then it was done. We were unbound and Jamie took a moment to carefully blot the blood from my wrist, wrapping it with a clean piece of linen, his fingers lingering on my skin.

I felt a little light-headed, but it was truly done as Jamie held my arm tightly, cautious of the bandage that still covered the other wound under the sleeve. We stepped away from the altar much to the chagrin of the rest of the party, the air had turned quiet, the light faded outside as the emotion of the evening settled into accomplishment on Dougal and Mr. Gowan’s part.

But I knew this wasn’t the end of the wedding truly.

When I stepped back out into the fresh air, I inhaled sharply, pressing my hand to my head as I turned, nearly bumping straight into Jamie who looked as pale as I felt under the moonlight. Nearly the rest of the men were ahead on the path, Murtagh was lingering, hand on his hip where his sword rested.

Jamie stared down at me and I swallowed, feeling like my tongue weighed a thousand pounds as I tried to find the right words.

“Well —“

“You —“

We cut each other off, stopping as we exchanged another look. A smile lifted his lips as he chuckled and reached up to push his hair back. It broke the uncomfortable spell between us, mussing the perfectly arranged curls back into what I was used to.

I reached back and let down the pins from my hair, the piece of heather falling into my hand. Looking at it, I glanced up at him and then stood on my toes. Pushing it behind his ear, I laughed softly, echoing him from earlier, “Perfect.”

“Ah, come on ye’ two,” Murtagh finally snapped. “I’m not gettin’ eaten by a bear out here.”

Jamie took my hand and pulled me forward a few steps before we were catching up with the rest of the group. They led us back to the inn and tavern, now that had a few more townsfolk, done for the evening and enjoying a pint. I felt the urge to suddenly skip everything else, I didn’t want to sit with anyone. Even the sight of a wooden table, laden with as much food as I had seen at my first night at Castle Leoch, made my stomach roll.

“Go on,” Jamie muttered as we began to move past the table. “I cannae come back for it.” He urged me towards the stairs and I took my escape, narrowly dodging Dougal, who instead set his sights on Jamie and pulled him to the side just before the stairs.

I practically flew up the steps and into the room I had just left earlier. Pushing the door shut behind me, I leaned against the wood and felt my stomach roll once more. Pushing away from it, I stumbled across the wooden floor to the small window and pushed my head out of it, letting the cool night breeze wash over my clammy forehead.

Marriage.

I sunk to my knees on the wooden floor, leaning my head against the sill of the window as I stared outside. The only thing keeping me together was the feeling of the air on my face as I breathed in harshly, trying not to hyperventilate and feeling it come on anyway.

The door across the room opened and I jerked, holding onto the wall as I watched Jamie step in. He had a plate absolutely tipping over with food. Something in my expression made his twist and he quickly dropped the food onto the vanity and crossed the room. As he walked, he was undoing the cuffs of his shirt, pushing it up and then kneeling down next to me.

I exhaled as he crouched, his eyes searching mine.

“Are ye’ gonna faint on me, lass?”

“Maybe?” I licked my lips, closing my eyes for a moment. “I’ll get back to you on that one.” When I opened them again, I looked down at my wrist. Jamie’s hands came into my view as he carefully turned my hand over and unwrapped the bandage over it.

The slit was barely noticeable, but he prodded it anyway with gentle fingers, shaking his head. “I shoulda warned ye’, I ken ye’ knew about it, but then your face when Dougal brought out my sword…”

I looked up at him, exhaling with a light chuckle. “What does it mean?”

“Ay, very pagan,” Jamie looked up at me, carefully wrapping my wrist back up. “It’s a blood vow.” He placed my wrist back in my lap, shifting in his crouch. “The translation is about like a rhyme in English, ‘Ye’ are the blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give ye’ my body, that we two might be one. I give ye’ my spirit, ’til our life shall be done.’”

“Oh,” I couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled in my throat, “Very to the point.”

“I suppose it is.” He smiled at me gently. “I brought ye’ some food. I wasn’t sure what ye’d want so I just —” Jamie looked over his shoulder at the plate on the vanity, “— got everything.”

“Thank you.” I began to stand up from the wooden floor and he reached out, grasping me by the waist and lifting me to my feet with ease. I stumbled the moment he let me go and grumbled, bending down to rip off the slippers. Throwing them against the wall, I looked up at him sheepishly, “Sorry.”

He was grinning. “Fineries that bad, hm?”

“They are when they don’t fit.” I reached behind myself, turning in a circle as I tried to reach the top of the dress. All the fabric felt suddenly suffocating. And As much as Jamie found it uncomfortable the brief moments he had seen me in the shift, I had been in crop tops and shorts in front of modern men. He could handle a glorified nightgown.

“Hold still,” He stopped me, grumbling as he stepped forward and catching sight of the number of laces, “my _god_.” He muttered curses under his breath as he tried to untie whatever pattern the laces seemed to make.

I turned my head partially, rotating my shoulders on accident as the thin strings slipped out of his fingers again. He cursed louder and I laughed. Pressing my lips together, I watched as he raised his eyes, looking at me crossly as he dropped his hands from the fallen strings. “Do ye’ want this off or not?”

“I do, I’m sorry.” I covered my face as I tried not to laugh again, turning back around, covering my mouth as he struggled to hold onto them again. Finally, I felt a slight loosening of the fabric and sucked in a huge breath, able to breathe a bit better as the dress sagged.

Finally, I could turn freely. Holding the top to where the corset was still against the shift, I looked up at Jamie as his eyes lingered on my skin.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” I hesitated, wrapping my fingers around the borrowed dress.

He looked up, straightening slightly, his cheeks redder. “I wasn’t going ta’ jump on ye’.”

I pressed my lips together to hide a smile, I had to keep reminding myself he was as nervous as I was — at least it appeared as much. Not to mention he was acting like every extra inch of skin I showed was breathtaking. I’d never felt more aware of myself.

Taking a step back so I could let the amount of fabric fall, I dropped it slowly, mindful of the very fragile sleeves as I slid them off my arms. Jamie stayed silent, still standing in his full Highlander regalia as I stepped out of the dress and moved to take off the skirt padding around my hips. He stepped forward, then paused, then shifted again.

He seemed to decide it was alright if he took the dress and threw it over the vanity chair. I slipped the padding off my hips, reaching around for the corset again. Jamie cleared his throat, sounding just slightly strained. “I cannae help wi’ that too.”

I looked at him over my shoulder, at some point the heather had fallen out of his hair, or he’d brushed it away when I wasn’t looking. Now he was just fidgeting, pulling at the broach against his chest as his eyes flickered over the shift around my legs and hips. Turning around again, I nodded, “Alright, come struggle with more strings.”

He muttered something in Gaelic under his breath, but was on me in an instant, fingers working faster than before. I felt his thumb slide under the strings, loosening them carefully as I held the front boning against my chest. As he untied and unlaced it, his head dipped down and I felt his breath against my ear, goosebumps appearing on my arms.

“Dougal gave me a lecture.”

“Oh?” I turned my head, startled slightly.

He nodded, focused on the laces. “The marriage won’t be taken as bindin’ —“

“Unless we consummate it.” I cut him off, turning around to look at him as his hands fell away from the loose laces. I wasn’t stupid, I had seen my fair share of period dramas, I just never expected to be _living_ one. “I know.”

The tavern downstairs seemed rowdier in the silence between us.

“Ye’ donna need to be afraid of me.” Jamie rested his hands on the waist of his kilt. “Jus’ because Dougal says it needs to be, doesn’t mean I will. I ken I’ve lied to tha’ stubborn bastard before, and I ken I can do it again.”

I held the corset in place, suddenly aware of what it meant in the context of the moment. It was the last true barrier in place against the shift and nothing. While he was still fully dressed, he could still leave the room. I was trapped until morning under the guise of societal expectations for the wedding night.

There would be no glamorous modern honeymoon, this was it.

Carefully, I reached behind myself and let the last couple strings fall through the holes. Pulling the corset away from my body, I let myself breathe for a moment before folding it and walking over to the vanity, past Jamie to lay it down with the wedding dress.

He watched me, hand twitching against his waist. When I looked up, he glanced away.

“I trust you.” My voice was soft and the words hung in the air.

Jamie turned to look back at me, nodding once as he swallowed. Then he reached up to undo the broach holding his kilt in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wholeheartedly love this chapter and I hope you all do too! <3


	7. 7 | Fraser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Frasers celebrate their wedding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is why this fic is mature.

I took a seat in front of the fire where there were two small wooden chairs similar to the ones downstairs around the tavern tables. On a stool, I balanced the plate of food that Jamie brought up, picking at meats, bread, and cheeses as I glanced up every few moments.

He had already placed his broach on the vanity and was in the process of unwinding the kilt off his shoulders, letting the spare fabric hang as he addressed the shirt he had on. I had never seen him in anything fancier then the plain rough cloth shirts all the men wore, easy to stitch and easy to wash blood out of. The smooth and carefully pristine white shirt looked wrong.

When I looked up from staring at his torso, he was looking at me.

I quickly turned my head back to the food, clearing my throat. “Are you hungry?” I picked apart a piece of bread anxiously, moving it between my fingers before lifting a slice of an apple and looking back at him.

Jamie exhaled, then stepped over and took the slice from my fingers. As he popped it into his mouth, crunching loudly, he started the process of removing all the regalia, starting with his sword. “Ye’ ken, I never finished my apple from this morning.”

Had my encounter with Randall really just been hours ago, just this morning?

I took a bite of the bread I had shredded into little pieces, humming. “Sorry to ruin your breakfast. And lunch…” I trailed off and then squinted at him, “And dinner?”

He chuckled as he finally kicked his boots off, laying the sporran that normally stayed firmly around his waist on top of a dresser shoved in the corner. As he passed me, he plucked a piece of bread for himself off the plate and then collapsed in the chair beside me, legs spread out as the kilt hung around them. “Ye’ never ruined my breakfast, tha’ bastard Randall did.” With a little smile, he looked back up at me, “Rest of tha’ day has been good.”

I wondered suddenly, what the implications of Captain Randall dying would be. So far in the time I’d spent in 1743, nothing seemed to be off track, Britain was still at odds with Scotland, the Jacobite cause was loud and on track, and surely the day to day lives of the people I was interacting with weren’t completely altered because I was with them? Then again, there was no true way to check unless I went back to modern times and combed through history.

Jamie chewed on the piece of bread and then raised an eyebrow at me, “ _Uan_?”

“Hm?” I looked up, catching his smile as I cleared my throat. “What?” My heart fluttered as he reached over and touched my cheek, carefully he wiped his thumb across my lips and then sat back again.

We stared at each other for a moment as I tried to ease the pounding in my ears. Clearing my throat, I pulled a leg up onto the chair, sitting lopsided as I peeked at him over my knee. Jamie reached over and picked at the food himself. The shirt was still throwing me off.

“What happened to your traveling clothes?” I asked suddenly, clearing my throat. My dress was near his sporran, folded carefully in the top drawer of the dresser. There was no point in it being anywhere else as the wedding dress wasn’t coming with me when we were back on the road. Not to mention I had grown a fond attachment to the slightly rough, but thick and comforting fabric. I had Mrs. Fitz to thank for that and the cloak.

Jamie shook his head. “Ay, probably still across tha’ path. Collateral.”

I smiled at him, snorting lightly. “Must be nice to not care where your clothes are.”

His eyes flickered up to mine as he smirked and then picked up another piece of apple, remaining silent as he ate it slowly. “‘M not gonna comment.”

I laughed, hugging my leg as I watched him. The ring on my left hand caught the reflection of the fireplace, waning light in the room making the tavern below us feel all the much louder. For a moment I was grateful there was a constant flow of background noise, and a break from the main towns that were crawling with redcoats.

Looking down at my hand, I twisted it back and forth before sliding the ring off and looking at it closer.

“It’s a key.” His voice was soft and I looked up, holding the ring in my palm as he lifted his hand, “The key to Lallybroch.”

I twisted the ring around again, finally seeing the blade of the key, bent into a small circle to accommodate my finger. I didn’t recognize the name of the place and I glanced back up at him, swallowing. “Where is that?”

A tiny smile played on the edges of Jamie’s lips, “A day or two’s ride from here. Haven’t been back in a bit.” His brow creased as he looked at the fire, “Suppose Jenny’s not ta’ happy about that.”

I looked back at the ring, licking my lips. “The price on your head…” He turned his attention back to me as I cleared my throat. “Is there a way to get rid of it?” I closed my hand around the ring, “Can I do anything?”

His expression was unreadable for a moment, then he slid off the chair across from me. I hesitated as he knelt in front of me. Carefully, Jamie reached out for my hand and uncurled my fingers around the ring. Looking up at me, his curls had flopped to the side, a mess around his forehead and face as he picked up the slightly warm ring. Touching my hand, he flipped it over and then slid his fingers over my skin. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I watched him, his attention on my hand as he splayed my fingers out. He slid the ring back down my finger, rubbing his thumb against where it met my skin.

I watched him, breath caught in my throat as he curled my fingers back up, wrapping his large hand around mine.

“Na’, _mo ghràdh_ , nothing can be done.” He tipped his head up, eyes searching my face. “I ken I won’t be a very good husband.”

I didn’t know how to respond, sucking in a quiet breath. “I don’t think you could be anything but.” My heart was hammering again and I felt self-conscious he could feel it in his hand, or see the way it thrummed in my throat. “Maybe it’s me, maybe I won’t be a good wife.”

Jamie scoffed, smiling at me, “Yer already the best one I’ve had.”

“Low bar, but I’ll take it.” I laughed softly, afraid to break the tension between us. The fire crackled and I turned my head to watch as embers scattered across the old wooden floorboards then flamed out in wisps of smoke.

In front of me, Jamie shifted. His hand was still covering mine as he rose up slightly. His other hand reached out and touched my cheek gently and I turned towards his touch, swallowing as I looked up at him. His fingers moved across my skin, the pads rough as his thumb ghosted against my jaw and then reached backward, touching my hair and then moving down my neck. Now I was certain he could feel my stuttering heartbeat, but it didn’t stop him as he moved his hand across my shoulder, exposed in the loose shift.

I breathed in as he stepped closer, the air feeling heavy as his hand slid down the back of the shift, touching my back. Dragging his hand back up, he pulled it away from my skin as I sat curled up in the chair, chin tilted upwards to watch him.

His eyes looked darker, running over my face as he rested his hand on the back of the chair, barely touching me. My mind was foggy, the only thoughts flitting through my mind wondering if he was waiting for something, or if he was as nervous as I was.

Finally, he shifted his hand again, sliding his fingers into the hair at the back of my head as he leaned down. I pushed up to meet him, his lips crashing into mine as I fumbled away from the chair. Jamie pulled me up, grabbing me by the hip as he pulled me flush against his chest. Reaching up, I pushed my hands through his hair, wrapping it around my fingers as I breathed in against his lips.

The chair fell toppled over as we stumbled around the obstacle, backing up towards the bed covered in various furs and quilts. I could feel my pulse again, scattered and a little scared as the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. Reaching back, I braced myself before falling to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled back, chest heaving as he stared at me.

“‘M not experienced.” His voice was husky, hand on my hip as he breathed in again, clearing his throat.

I didn’t know how to tell him that while I wasn’t either, I also had access to modern-day porn and knew the basic ins and outs, not to mention I knew what _I_ liked. Pushing back on the bed, I pulled my legs up, licking my lips as I shifted enough for him to put one knee on the edge, following me whether consciously or unconsciously.

“I think we can figure it out.”

It was all he needed to hear. Jamie reached behind himself with one hand, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere to the floor as he crawled up the bed to hover over top of me. Bending down, he touched my chin again and then pulled my head up, kissing me harder and deeper. His hands dropped as I gasped softly, the noise turning into a moan as his fingers pulled and pushed at the shift, running a hand over my side, pressing against my curves.

I fell back against one of the pillows, pulling him down against me as I kissed him harder. Jamie’s hand slipped slightly as he tried to hold himself up. His chest crushed against mine as I arched against him, our noses touching as he let out a barely restrained groan.

With the shirt off, my hands could skate down his back, running over the rough and scarred skin, gently touching and feeling as I reached the top of his kilt. While his lips got distracted against the edges of mine, ghosting down across my jaw, I slipped my hands lower, grabbing at his ass through the kilt.

Jamie jerked, exhaling hard as he grunted. “Ay, _lass_.”

I giggled against his skin, dissolving into laughter as he pushed himself back up and looked down at me, disgruntled but flushed red. Dropping my head back to the pillows again, I stared up at him, smiling softly as I shifted my hands. Worry my lip between my teeth, I shot him a sheepish look, “Sorry?”

He tilted his head as he stared down at me, his lips slightly parted as he broke out into a smile. Jamie’s eyes flickered over my face, swallowing as they continued down, lifting back to take me in.

“Take off yer dress.”

I leaned up on my elbows, licking my lips. “You first.”

His eyes narrowed before he leaned up, kneeling on the bed as he untied the rest of his kilt. As the fabric fell away, I swallowed hard, kneeling up after him. Reaching down, I touched the hem of the shift as Jamie stared at me, pulling it up, I tugged it over my head and tossed off the bed.

We knelt in front of each other as Jamie’s eyes struggled to stay on mine, finally, he broke, his gaze flickering over my body slowly, licking his lips as they parted. He shifted forward and then reached out, touching my skin again, palm against my side as he breathed harder.

“It's okay.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I breathed in at his touch. “I trust you.”

He moved forward again, his fingers twitching against my skin as his other hand skimmed over my collarbone again. His eyes flickered up as his hand trailed down, moving over the top of my breasts, then grasping one of them. I arched against his touch, exhaling a shaky laugh as he grabbed a handful of my hip.

“ _Christ_ ,” Jamie finally muttered, causing a flush to spread across my entire body.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did as he lifted me slightly, pulling me forward until our chests were touching again. Breathing hard, I stared up at him, my throat feeling dry all of the sudden as he dipped his head down.

My lips parted, anticipating, but his head shifted, nose grazing mine as his lips mirrored mine. We stayed, suspended in the moment until he broke it, head dipping again as his lips caught mine.

I reached up, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he lifted me up and slammed my back down against the bed. The frame creaked and shook as his hand on my hip hitched one leg up around his waist. Staring up at him, I gasped against his lips as Jamie pressed against me.

We stared at each other as he pressed his forehead against mine and thrust his hips forward.

I cried out, my eyes shutting as he stilled, hesitating. Gathering myself, I breathed out slowly against his jaw, eyelids fluttering as I grasped at his shoulders.

“I dinnae want to hurt ya’.” Jamie floundered for a moment, his voice breaking as he stayed still.

“You won’t.” I pulled him back down, kissing him again as he pulled back and began to move against me. I wrapped my leg around him, arching up as he rolled against me. One hand slammed down next to my head, gripping at the bed as I moaned.

His other hand pressed against my hip, fingers digging into my skin as I kissed across his jaw and down his neck. A strangled moan left his lips as he shook against me. I fumbled for his hand on my hip, grabbing it as I pushed it between us.

Jamie raised his head, eyes curious as I pressed his fingers against my clit. He slowed and I marveled for a second at the control as he leaned up. Touching me slowly, I felt my eyes roll back as he spurred forward, encouraged by the way I arched against him harder.

Neither of us lasted longer than another breath, Jamie’s hips stuttering first against mine as I wrapped my other leg around him, digging my fingertips into his shoulder as my mouth dropped open, gasping his name.

His head dropped, hia hand pressed between us as his body sank against me, barely holding himself up. His breath was hot against my shoulder as I held onto his shoulder, the pressure of him on top of me comforting instead of suffocating. With a groan, he raised up enough to roll back, dropping onto his side next to me.

My back was slick with sweat, the heat radiating off the furs under us as I tried to breathe in slowly. My hands were shaking as I felt his hand reach over, taking one of mine.

“Are ye’ alright?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer, turning my head to stare at him as I laughed breathlessly. Nodding slowly, I watched as a proud and goofy smile spread across his lips.

“Is it always…” He looked up at the ceiling, eyebrows knitting together, “ — like that? Ye’ think?”

I exhaled and shook my head. “I don’t know.”

He hummed, turning over and pulling me closer, hand snaking around until it was pressed against the small of my back. I looked up at him as he smiled again.

“And ye’ did…” Jamie’s eyes finally flickered back down, licking his lips, “didn’t you?”

I cleared my throat, dropping my head against his bare chest, unable to meet his eyes. “I did.”

He hummed again, a deep sound echoed with my ear against his chest. When I raised my eyes, his were closed, settling back against the bed as he reached down for one of the blankets cast down the bed. Blindly he grabbed one, pulling it up over us, tucking it around my side first before pulling it partially over himself.

I shut my eyes again, turning my face into his chest as his hand rubbed the small of my back.

We both must have fallen asleep because I stirred by the dim sounds of the tavern below, the sound of the front door shutting hard as someone stumbled home. Lifting my head from Jamie’s chest, I stared at him as he slept peacefully, pushing up and sliding out from under the blanket.

I felt too bare without anything, so I reached down, finding the thin but clean white shirt he had worn to the wedding. Pulling it over my head, I stepped over to where the fire was dying, prodding it gently before adding another small bundle of sticks.

I picked up the fallen chair and then sat down. Curling up in it, I picked up a piece of fruit from the abandoned plate and poured myself a glass of the wine that had been left for us. Taking a sip, I stared as the fire crackled, my skin feeling warm as I pulled the shirt closer. It smelled like him, warm and woodsy, tinged with smoke.

My mind was whirling, uncertainty mixed with the very real feelings that were twisting in my stomach and clawing their way around my heart. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, Jamie was — at the very least — incredibly attractive and kind. My skin tingled as I shifted against the chair, pushing a hand through my hair as I breathed in sharply.

There was nothing stopping me from staying with him.

Taking another long drink of the wine, I looked down at my bare leg braced on the edge of the chair.

And there was finally something to stop me from returning to Craigh na Dun.

Curling my left hand into a fist, I looked down at the ring, then released the fist, running my thumb over the back of the ring as I turned my hand around. As I shifted my wrist back and forth, the silver shined.

I lifted the glass to my lips again, staring at the ring as I downed the rest of the wine.

Another sound downstairs made me raise my head, holding my breath as the sound of boots moved towards the front of the tavern again. My shoulders tightened as I waited for the door to shut. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but the party had died down considerably, the din of the drinking and mirth must have faded while we slept, leaving the locals and guests to stumble their way home or to sleep.

Reaching forward, I sat the empty glass next to the plate, pulling my other leg up onto the chair and wrapping my arms around them.

This time the sound came from behind me, but I didn’t bother to turn my head as I heard the bed shift, creaking as Jamie began to stir. He must have pushed himself up because it sounded like one of the furs slid to the floor. His bare feet barely made a noise and before I knew it, I caught him in my peripheral.

His body was lean, muscle pressed against skin as he stood naked in the low light. He was reaching for his sporran. My eyes flickered down, running over his back and the curve of his ass before I turned back towards the fire, my throat feeling tight as I raised a hand and pushed my hair back.

The floorboard creaked behind me and I lifted my head, starting to turn it just as Jamie slipped something over it.

The necklace settled down against my skin, the shirt not enough to stop the pearls from slipping against it and landing against my chest. It was a string of pearls, opalescent and shining in the firelight as they touched my skin, cool enough to make goosebumps appear.

Jamie moved around into view, his voice low. “Scottish pearls,” He cleared his throat, “the last thing I have of my mother’s.”

I touched them gently, wrapping my hand around them before I looked up. With his back to the fire, he was haloed in a warm light.

“They’re beautiful,” I whispered. “You’ve kept these with you?”

He nodded, smiling gently. “I hoped I would give them ta’ a lass one day.”

My throat closed again as I stared up at him, having to clear it before I could whisper. “Thank you.”

Jamie shifted his head, nodding once. “Of course, Mrs. Fraser.” His eyes were already straying, running over the way the shirt billowed around my chest and didn’t quite reach low enough on my hips, especially not with my legs up almost under me in the chair. He drank me in, licking his lips.

I let the pearls go, smiling a little as I looked up at him. “Mr. Fraser, the food is right there.” I nodded towards the half-empty plate.

“Mm,” He hummed, “‘M looking at dessert.” Jamie stepped forward and then bent down, grinning again before he pressed his lips against mine quickly.

I laughed, my legs slipping off the chair, feet back on the floor as I tilted up against him. He pulled back slightly, drawing me up from the chair with a hand on the back of my head. His lips skimmed over my jaw, inhaling sharply as he groaned softly.

“How is it, I still want you?” His voice was rough as he pulled me closer. “Maybe even more than before.”

My eyes fluttered close as his hand shifted down, pressing against the nape of my neck. His lips parted against my throat, pressing hard against my skin as I gasped softly. Jamie’s other hand slid down my back, stopping just short of where the hem of the shirt didn’t reach.

Then his hand slipped lower, grasping my ass and pulling me against him.

I groaned, reaching up to grab onto his hair as I felt him smile against my throat. His hand tightened before he lifted me up, his other hand dropping to support my hips as I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist again. His head dropped to the shell of my throat, kissing my skin languidly as he stepped towards the bed again.

Instead of dropping me onto my back, he sat down at the end of the bed, letting my chest slide down against his. His head raised, my hands still buried in his hair as he stared up at me, eyes searching my face.

I pressed my hips down against his.

Jamie grasped at my hips, pushing the shirt away as he leaned up and kissed me hungrily. I pulled at his hair as he rolled his hips up. Tugging at the root, I elicited a groan as he pushed my hips down against him.

I moaned, my head dropping back as he rolled up against me again. His head dropped forward again, kissing my throat roughly, sucking at my skin as he pushed into me. One of his hands slid up my back, supporting my head as he nipped at my skin. I didn’t have time to feel self conscious about the noises he was drawing from my throat as he moved against me, biting down a little harder as I gasped and tugged at his hair again.

This time it was slower, agonizing as Jamie tortured me, a special form of hell as he peppered my skin with kisses. He was enjoying it too much, smiling against my skin as he drug his hand up and down my back.

“Jesus.” I felt my eyes roll back again as he chuckled against my jaw.

His hand crept back up and tangled into my hair, tugging at my scalp in the same way I was pulling at his. I dropped down against him, breathing hard as I kissed him hungrily, pushing his head against mine as I barely had space to breathe. His chest was rising and falling quicker, heaving against mine as he moved faster, our skin sticking together.

I cried out against his lips, my toes curling as he pushed my chest against his. Grabbing onto him, I gasped, “ _Jamie_.”

I didn’t want to breathe out, afraid of the sound that would come out of my throat. It resulted in a strangled moan as I dropped against him, growing louder as he kept moving. Jamie stood up, holding me in his arms as he turned around, pushing me against the bed.

His hands pushed the shirt up over my head, throwing it again to the floor as he leaned over me, grabbing onto my inner thigh as he pressed against me. I cried out louder, biting my tongue as I arched off the bed. His hand ran over my bare chest, grasping at it as he grunted. His voice sounded strangled as he whispered in Gaelic, bending down to kiss me again.

There wasn’t an inch of me that wasn’t touching him. In an overwhelming moment, I felt his hips jerk against mine again as we both gasped out. His words were quicker, blending together against my lips as he either muttered prayers or praises.

I shook against him first, unable to hold back as I gasped his name over and over again, one leg wrapped around him. We were both shaking by the time he dropped his forehead against mine.

His grip on my thigh loosened but didn’t pull away as he breathed against my lips. I breathed out, eyes fluttering open to see him staring at me in a mixture of amazement and lust. The look sent a shiver down my skin as he moved his head, hovering over my lips.

“ _Mo ghràdh,_ ” Jamie kissed the edges of my lips, “ _Mo chridhe_ ,” he didn’t stop as he drug kisses up my jaw, voice rough, “ _Mo leannan, m’eudail, a thasgaidh_.” He repeated the words over and over again, pulling us both up until we were back at the head of the bed. Pressing a final kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, he finally drew back enough to retrieve the fallen quilt.

I sucked in a breath, staring at him as he dropped down next to me, propping his head up with a hand. His other ran over my skin, almost unable to pull it away from me as he ghosted his fingertips up and down my side.

“What did you say?” I stared at him as his fingers briefly touched the pearls.

His eyes flickered up. Licking his lips, he hesitated as his hand dropped back down to my hip, cupping it with his hand. “My love,” He tilted his head, looking away for a moment as he exhaled, whispering the rest of the words, “My heart, my lover, my darling, my dear.”

I reached out, touching his jaw gently before shifting across the tiny space and pressing against him again. Dropping my lips against his jaw, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, my heart firmly in my throat as my chest ached with something I didn’t yet know what to call.

Jamie pressed a kiss to my temple, whispering against my skin. “Better rest, _uan_.”

I closed my eyes, fingers pressed against the nape of his neck as I melted against him. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him as every second of the day caught up to me, exhaustion weighing my limbs as I was finally safely wrapped in his embrace.


	8. 8 | Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fort William is within reach, but clan ties are wearing thin with redcoat interference.

The morning broke too soon, streaming in through the uncovered window and hitting the bed. I squinted as I woke up, stirring against Jamie’s chest as his arms tightened around me. He groaned softly, a little whine in his voice as he pressed his face against my hair.

“Go back ta’ sleep, _uan_.”

I smiled against his chest, wrapped around him. Running my fingers over his shoulder, I pressed my lips against his breastbone, closing my eyes again as his fingers splayed across my back. He made another noise, a half-groan as he stirred himself awake, then pressed his lips sleepily against my hairline.

Tipping my head up, I kissed his chin and smiled as I lifted up slightly. Jamie’s head bumped mine as he sought out my lips, kissing me slowly until he woke up the rest of the way. A hand lifted, threading in my hair as he leaned over, pressing me back into the bed as he muttered, “Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” I laughed as he pulled back, rubbing his eyes as he leaned over me. There was a sleepy smile gracing his features, relaxed as he looked down at me, eyes running over my body under his. The smile slowly got larger as Jamie sunk down, brushing another kiss across my lips.

“Mrs. Fraser,” His voice was husky, kissing my jaw firmly, “ye’ may be the most beautiful lass in the world.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair, laughing as I pulled him against me, kissing his jaw before wrapping my arms around him tightly, pressing my head into his shoulder. He chuckled, wrapping me up in a tight hug, before flopping over onto his back, half dragging me onto his chest again.

As the morning light streamed in, slowly lighting up the room, I heard the beginnings of movement under us. Jamie hummed, running his fingers over my hair absentmindedly as he yawned and stretched once. I had a fantastic view of his face as it scrunched, lazily tipping down to look at me. He looked younger, happier.

Resting my chin on his chest, I tilted my head back at him, smiling. “Are you awake?”

“Mm,” He rubbed his nose, “I cannae be, but I dinnae want ta’ be.”

I laughed again, squeezing him once and staring at him. His hair was a tangled mess, red curls splayed back against the pillow. Overnight it seemed like the permanent stubble had grown a little longer, darkening his jawline. My favorite part of him was his eyes, half-lidded as he stared at me, blue catching the sunlight.

It was peaceful, a blanket of calm that wrapped around us both. I could too easily ignore how the stirring was getting louder downstairs. Everyone else would be nursing a hangover, it would take them a while to wander up the stairs.

He was starting to smile again, a grin that spread across his face as he sighed. “I ken I could stay in this bed forever.”

I smiled, sitting up slowly as I yawned and stretched my arms around. He stayed laying for another moment before pushing up on the bed. Reaching out, he pushed my hair back and touched my cheek gently. “But we do have ta’ get back on the road.”

“Mm, of course,” I turned my head, pecking a kiss on his hand before pulling away. Hunger was setting in as we both rolled out of the bed. Scattered along the floor, Jamie grunted as he began to gather up his clothes. I watched with a little grin as he bent over, biting my tongue and turning to grab my shift.

Tugging it over my head, I stepped over to the dresser, dragging the creaky drawer open and pulling an armful of dress out. Throwing it onto the bed, I pushed my hair back, finding my knife and the makeshift strap for it. Pulling them both out, I rested my leg on one of the chairs and pushed the shift up.

Jamie was on me in an instant, shirt barely on as he dropped to his knees in front of me. One hand skimmed up my calf as he stared up at me through a mess of curls. His voice was rougher, “Allow me.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist until I let the knife go, laughing softly as he kissed inside my thigh. Dropping my head back, I exhaled hard as he wrapped the piece of leather around my upper thigh, fingers deft and precise as he slid the knife back into place, pressing his face against my skin after he was done.

I combed his hair back, glancing down at him as he smirked, standing back up slowly and pulling away again. The expression was burned into my brain as I smiled, my cheeks flushing as I grabbed my corset. We both dressed, passing each other for various pieces of clothing.

As Jamie was sliding his sword back onto his hip and I was smoothing the traveling dress back down, we both heard boots on the steps.

I pulled my hair up with one hand, desperate for a hair tie as Jamie glanced over at me. He stopped short, beaming at me as he stepped over, boots echoing as he crossed the floor.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes as he shifted to stand behind me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he dropped his head to my neck, kissing it as he twisted us so I could see our small reflections in the vanity mirror. My neck was marked with light pink welts, concrete evidence at where he’d gotten carried away the night before.

I dropped my hair laughing as I tilted my head back, resting it against his chest as he twisted his fingers around the pearls I was still wearing. Maybe I would keep my hair down for a couple of days.

The floorboards creaked outside the room and I turned around in Jamie’s arms, kissing him quickly before pulling back and finding my boots. The last thing I wanted was to be caught wrapped around him, married or not.

There was a light knock on the wood as I tugged a shoe on. Jamie cleared his throat.

“Ay, what is it?”

Angus sounded miserable, “Dougal says it’s time ta’ go.”

I laughed loudly, carefully pulling the pearls off my neck. I didn’t have anywhere to put them, so I turned back to Jamie. He reached out, taking them from me gently and sliding them back into his sporran. With a kiss to my head and a quick whispered, “Ye’ can put them back on later,” he was crossing the room to tug the door open.

Angus was pale. He cast a look over to me as I raised an eyebrow. I guess the first true break for any of them since we left Castle Leoch had been harder on some than others. Angus looked back at Jamie, giving him a teasing grin.

“Sleep well, lad?”

Jamie clasped a hand on his shoulder, spinning him to push him back towards the stairs. His voice was too low for me to hear everything, but I distinctly caught the beginnings of a lecture on leaving me alone. I was a few moments behind them, ensuring nothing was left in the room other than the wedding dress. I left it abandoned on the back of the vanity chair.

The tavern was half locals still asleep in their empty glasses, half the actual party I had left. Mr. Gowan was the first to turn his head, pausing as I stepped out of the room. Dougal turned away from where he was paying the tab, tilting his head at me as he nodded once.

Jamie waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the top of his sword. I smiled at him softly, self-conscious as I leaned in and kissed his cheek, breezing past him to start out the tavern. Murtagh was already outside, checking on the horses and the rest of the guards who traveled with us. I cast him a grateful smile as I greeted my horse, running my hand over his nose before the rest of the men made their way outside.

Next to me, Dougal paused. He patted my horse’s nose before clearing his throat, “Fort William today, lass. I ken we can make it.”

I nodded my head, grabbing the bridle as I gave the older man a half-smile. “I’m looking forward to it.” He chuckled, muttering something in Gaelic under his breath as he left me to go to his own horse.

It didn’t take more than thirty minutes for everyone to gather back up. Astride my horse, I turned him around on the path, pushing my hair to one side as I spurred him forward. Jamie fell into place next to me as we set off behind Dougal. I bounced in the saddle, adjusting before shooting Jamie a little smile.

He grinned back at me.

It was the latest we had set out on the road since leaving Castle Leoch, and there were quite a few towns to stop in, each with a handful of people that Mr. Gowan had to sign ledgers and make receipts for. I felt a certain level of power as we rode through towns, eyes lingering on me instead of ghosting past me. The ring wasn’t lost on other members of the clan, hushed Gaelic questions to Dougal and glances at Jamie.

We made the trip to the outskirts of Fort William by the end of the day, the only thing slowing our reinvigorated progress being the countryside crawling with more and more redcoats. Dougal finally pulled to a stop just off the road as another party of redcoats passed us. I felt eyes on me and glanced up to see one of the officers glancing back.

He clicked his tongue, then three of the guards turned, doubling back.

I braced myself, squaring my shoulders on my horse as the officers trotted up to me.

“Miss,” The first one tipped his head to me, his face unreadable as he scanned the group. “How are you this evening?”

“Perfectly fine,” I replied cooly, smiling softly. “Just traveling with my husband and his clan.”

The officer looked down at my hand braced on the reins. A tense smile pulled at the edges of his lips as he nodded. “We were told to keep an eye out for a female colonist by our garrison captain.”

“Tell Captain Randall that is no longer necessary.” I narrowed my eyes at the officers as they glanced at one another uncomfortably. “I no longer answer to England.” Pulling the reins, I began to turn my horse away, eyes cutting back to the officers. “Move along, men.”

One of the officers opened his mouth, but another shook his head, jaw tightened. Their horses retreated, spurring to catch up to the group of guards ahead they had split from.

I shot their backs a dirty look, “Bastards.” When I turned around fully, Dougal had a barely restrained grin on his face. Mr. Gowan looked nervously behind me before he cleared his throat.

“Well, you certainly, ah —“ He paused, “— handled that well.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I wasn’t afraid of a few showboating British officers. The only thing I was afraid of was Captain Randall’s very real thirst for violence. Jamie pulled his horse forward from the middle of the group, pushing his cloak back as he pulled up next to me. The smile he gave me didn’t quite reach his eyes and I frowned, reaching out just before Dougal barked we would camp off the road for the evening.

As the rest of the men pulled off to the side to take inventory of the grain and animals we had received today, I tugged my horse around, guiding it into the grass behind Jamie. He jumped off first, tying his securely to a tree near the forest’s edge.

I dismounted after him, silence between us as he took the reins and repeated the process with my horse.

Wordless I stared up at him and then cleared my throat, “Are you upset with me?”

He paused, hands on the tree before he shook his head, voice soft. “I should be the one confrontin’ tha’ bastards, not ye’.” He pulled back, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me. He looked rested for once, more than I could remember him being for the last month. But there was an undertone of something else behind his eyes, a frustration as he stared down at me. “‘M the husband, I should protect you.”

“I don’t want any reason for them to arrest you.” I gave him a serious look, setting my jaw. “Whether Captain Randall was exaggerating the amount or not, there is a price on your head.” Clearing my throat, I tried and failed to stop my voice from cracking. “And you won’t survive another whipping.”

“Ay, _uan_ —“ Jamie frowned, then reached forward, pulling me against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. I wrapped mine around his waist loosely, breathing in as he touched the back of my head. “They won’t take me.”

“But they have grounds to,” I raised my eyes to meet his again, “I would feel better if you weren’t seen by them, even if it calls into question the validity of my new Scottish marriage.” I tried to give him a soft smile, but it fell too quickly.

Jamie cupped the back of my head, eyes running over my face once, then twice, before he sighed. “It’s my job.”

I gave him a sad smile, “No, your job is to tend the horses and livestock we get and to not be arrested. Listen to your wife.”

He grumbled, pulling me a half step closer. “Listen ta’ yer husband.”

“No,” I grinned, leaning up as I hovered my lips in front of his. “Make me.”

Jamie grabbed me by the waist, turning us around and pushing me up against the tree. I laughed as he dropped his head to my neck, kissing my skin and pulling my hips forward against his. He made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat as I giggled, unable to stop myself as he ran his hands up.

“Stop laughin’. Tha’ MacKenzie’s will ken I’m a bad lover.” He grumbled against my jaw, pushing his head down against mine.

I grinned at him, reaching my hand up to push his hair back. “Would you rather me moan?”

Jamie’s cheeks flushed red as he set his jaw, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I don’t know what to do with ye’, lass.”

I pulled him against me, kissing him slowly as he pressed me back against the tree. His knee slid between my legs, pushing the dress up and to the side as I finally moaned against his lips, breathing harder as his hand tightened on my hip.

“Too much fabric,” He grumbled, pushing at the dress, lips against my skin. “I miss ye’ in nothin’ but those pearls.”

“Ay! Jesus ye’ two!” Angus’ voice startled us both and I jumped, bumping my head against the tree as Jamie jolted back enough to turn and cover me from Angus’ sight.

The other man was staring up at the night sky, eyes squinted as he pointedly looked away. “Dougal needs ye’ both. _Christ_.” He crossed himself, turning around before stomping back to where the camp was set up.

I sighed, reaching up to rub my head as I watched him go. “He must have lost a bet.” Jamie turned his attention back to me, glancing at my head and touching it gently to make sure I was fine as I grumbled. “That’s twice now he’s interrupted us.”

“Ay, he was the first to get pissed last night, Murtagh told me earlier.” Jamie gave me a half-smile, “and last ta’ wake this mornin’, Dougal’s punishing him.”

I grimaced up at him. “And we get to suffer too.”

He chuckled, kissing my cheek sweetly before taking my hand and pulling me with him. I wrapped my hand around his elbow, making the small hike to the crest of the hill where there was already a fire going, a chicken roasting on it for the guards and party members who weren’t getting the first round of sleep to guard later.

When Dougal saw us, he made a face.

I took a seat on a log, narrowing my eyes as I looked back at him, a little put off. “What?”

“I sent two men into Fort William,” He was talking to Jamie as he took a seat next to me, glossing over my question. “Ta’ see if the garrison commander was truly in town. When they get back, we’ll decide if the whole party is going ta’ get rent tomorrow or just a select few. We’ll still need ta’ visit the tavern.”

I glanced between the two of them, then caught Murtagh’s concerned look in Jamie’s direction. The anger of being ignored simmered a little, Dougal cared in his own way — without Jamie he was without a concrete reason for more coin toward the Jacobite cause, not to mention the loss of a nephew and the line to the Laird. Though a small part of me did wonder if Dougal would mind much if Jamie did disappear to an English prison and never come back. To risk the tavern and the cause under the redcoat’s noses made my skin prickle.

Picking up Jamie’s flask, I took a drink and then cleared my throat, staring at the fire for a moment. “Whether or not the Captain is there, I don’t want Jamie in town.”

There was silence around the fire and when I looked up Dougal’s eyes were on me.

“Opinionated aren’t ye’?”

“When haven’t I been?” I passed the flask back to Jamie, then sat up a little straighter. “I deserve an opinion. I think I’ve more than earned it.” Glancing between all their faces, I couldn’t help but think about the first moments in the cottage, Jamie hunched in front of the fire, favoring his shoulder, Dougal’s apprehension and Murtagh’s confusion but gratefulness — even both Angus and Rupert had warmed up considerably since then. But that could be shattered.

I knew I may very well take the story of Craigh na Dun to my grave.

Jamie straightened beside me, then nodded his head at Dougal. “She’s right, I won’t go ta’ Fort William if Randall is there, ni’ to the tavern, not with this many lobsterbacks lurkin’.”

Dougal seemed floored by the statement. His knuckles turned white around his own flask as he stared at the two of us across the fire. The air changed, tense and only broken by the cracking of flames. He set his jaw, then looked at me. “So that’s it, then? I save yer arse from Randall and now ye’ convince tha’ lad to stop work?”

“I will not watch him be drug by his hair to the stocks or the pole.” I snapped, leaning forward to stare Dougal down. “I sincerely appreciate your incredible use of our resident lawyer, but don’t let that convince you I owe you anything, Dougal MacKenzie.” The silence was palpable. “You may be able to strong-arm your men, your brother, and maybe even your clan, but not me.”

“Is that an invitation?” He tilted his head at me, taking a slow drink from his flask. As he swallowed, he sat it down and touched the blade at his hip.

“Try me.” I smiled ruefully, refusing to break eye contact, “What a waste of a wedding if you kill the bride a day later.”

“Waste of a weddin’ if the husband dinnae teach his wife some manners.”

Jamie grabbed my arm as I flew up from my seat, half holding me back and half a warning to Dougal. I knew I didn’t stand a chance logically, but I also refused to back down from the blatant sexism rolling off of him. I wasn’t reduced to a notch on Jamie’s belt just because I had a ring on my finger, nor was I suddenly complacent to Dougal’s grand Jacobite plan, not with Jamie’s life on the line.

“Enough,” Jamie looked between the both of us. “I said my choice, now I won’t go into town if Randall is there.”

Dougal muttered something under his breath in Gaelic, then stood, kicking dirt into the fire before stomping off with his flask in hand. I watched him go, a sneer on my lips before I pulled away from Jamie’s arm and went in the opposite direction. I could hear harsh words exchanged in Gaelic behind me, but I ignored them in favor of walking back down the hill and grabbing my bedroll from my saddle.

Wrapping the blanket around myself, I found a spot on the hillside and sat down in a huff, staring up at the stars.

I missed home.

It hit me with a pang in my chest and I pulled my knees up until I could wrap the blanket and my arms around them. I missed jeans and ice cream on hot summer days, I missed warm baths and nice smelling candles and stupid online purchases, I missed take out and the feeling of a fan as I slept. I missed my parents.

I pressed my head against my knees, huddled down as I closed my eyes. The grass crunched and I jerked, hand reaching for the blade on my thigh as I turned, but it was Jamie with a little bit of the dinner from the fire and one hand up.

“Just bringin’ ye’ a bite of supper, _uan_ ,” He sat down next to me and I took the chicken from him before spreading the blanket out. Jamie pulled it around his shoulders, his side touching mine as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

As I chewed, he leaned over and pressed his nose against my hair. Exhaling softly, he kissed the crown of my head, fingers tightening for just a second on my waist.

I wanted to turn around and bury myself in his lap, to hold him as tight as he was holding me, but grounded in the moment I felt nauseous, the ache and grief clawing up my throat. I threw a chicken bone down the hill and looked down at my hands after scrubbing them against the fabric of my dress.

“Talk ta’ me, _mo ghràdh._ ” Jamie pulled his head back from mine, touching my chin gently. He turned my head so I was finally looking at him, eyes searching mine as he sighed. “Please?”

I scanned his face, wondering what he would say — how he would react — if I told him about Craigh na Dun, the stones, and the life I originally wanted to leave, but now felt like I was missing a part of myself.

Looking down, I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s nothing, Dougal just made me angry.”

Jamie stayed quiet for a moment, then pulled me closer, sitting with his knees partially up as he scooped me into his lap. The blanket, my dress, and his kilt were all tangled, but he didn’t seem to care as he pulled me against his chest, firmly wrapping both arms around me.

“I ken I can finally tell when yer lying to me,” he adjusted his head, resting his chin on top of my hair as he blew out a breath. “It only took marrying ye’.” I could feel his smile against my head, “But ye’ never have to tell me. I cannae wait, or just never know. Won’t change that I care about ye’, _uan_.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, squeezing him as I buried my head against his neck. “Jamie…” I closed my eyes, shaking my head, “I can’t lose you.”

“Willa,” He said my name so softly, so sweetly, my chest ached. Carefully he lifted my head so we could stare at each other. “I told ye’, I’ll protect ye’, no matter what. Now,” Jamie ran his hands over my cheeks, smiling gently, “do I wish we were back in the tavern, wrapped up with each other? Maybe,” He admitted, a grin flickering on the edges of his lips, “But I also like ye’ on the road with us, in arm’s length so I dinnae have to worry, that is unless ye’ start picking fights with my ken.”

I couldn’t help the small smile as I laughed and looked at him. “He should have learned by now.”

“Maybe so,” Jamie admitted, smiling back, “But he’s not gonna make me do anything that will upset ye’, I won’t do it.”

I tucked myself into his arms, sighing hard as I leaned into him. “I know,” My voice was soft as I thought for a moment, running over everything in my head. “Maybe there won’t be many redcoats?”

I shouldn’t have said anything at all. The ground seemed like it rumbled as I heard hooves. Jamie moved quicker than I had ever seen him, pushing me back onto the grass as he crouched, his knife out in an instant. Something was wrong, the hooves weren’t slowing and I could hear the braying of the horses from the other guards.

“Stay here,” Jamie shot me a look just before the sound of a gunshot startled us both.

He half-ran, half threw himself up the rest of the hill, while I reached under my dress, wrapping my hand around the knife. I unsheathed it, then turned to run to the forest. The sound of musket fire made me flinch, my skin crawling and my arm burning again as I broke through the thin trees at the forest’s edge. All I could think of were the men at the henge, shouting, angry, out for any blood they could find. I kept going until I was out of breath.

My knuckles ached as I clung to the knife, skidding to a stop before I reached a small creek, putting a tree at my back as I scanned the darkened forest. I was still in earshot of the hill, guns and shouting just in the distance.

Then I saw them in the moonlight — redcoats, crawling over the hill I had just left, like fire ants swarming as they raided our camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This officially marks the climax of "Uan Beag" and the start of the end! I have the rest of the fic planned out and no intent on slowing down my posting schedule until I finish Jamie and Willa's story. Thank you to every single person who has kindly given me kudos, subscribed, bookmarked, and commented. <3


	9. 9 | Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to test the trust between Willa and the MacKenzie-Frasers.

I had nothing more than the knife in my hand and adrenaline in my veins as I turned and pushed farther into the forest. Trying my best to stay quiet, I kept putting distance between myself and the camp, uncertainty knotting my stomach as I prayed Jamie wasn’t swept up in the British’s game. I knew who was the architect of the raid — it had to have been Captain Randall once he received word of the marriage.

When I reached the peak of another hill, I turned back, working my way along the ridge until I could see more of the camp. Our fires hadn’t been put out, but the men were on the ground. It didn’t look like anyone was seriously injured, or killed, but from this distance, I couldn’t tell for certain.

I cleared my throat and then pulled my hair back, ripping off a strip of fabric from my wrist to hold it in place as I made my way carefully back down the hill, going toward the camp. As I neared, the redcoats got louder, more visible as the small raid party walked back and forth.

On the edge of the forest, I stopped. Where my horse should have been, there was nothing, meaning someone else or Jamie had retrieved both our horses. Hope swelled in my stomach that he had gotten out.

Crouching in the brush, I scanned the group at the top of the hill, two wagons askew as a man walked back and forth, shouting at them. In front of one of them was where the bulk of the party was, I could see Mr. Gowan’s nervous twitching as he sat between what looked like Angus and Murtagh. It had to be Rupert on the far end, he was much too large compared to the others. The redcoat in front of them was in the process of pulling Dougal to his feet, yelling into his face.

I saw red.

Pushing out of the forest, I stayed low, scanning the hill before I skirted around and started a climb up to the back of the wagon. I barely breathed as I dropped to my knees and crawled the rest of the way. There was no one on this side, and I dropped onto my back, closing my eyes before rolling underneath the wagon quietly. When I turned my head, I was an arm’s length away from Mr. Gowan and the rest of the men.

Carefully, I shuffled closer, my voice quiet, “Mr. Gowan.”

He started slightly, hands bound behind him. From the side, Murtagh glanced down, his eyes wide as he looked away.

“Mrs. Fraser,” Mr. Gowan spoke under his breath, cautious of the four other redcoats taking care of the MacKenzie guards and the wagon carrying the bulk of the grains. “My God, is that you?”

“One and only,” I slid my leg up, grabbing my knife and then cutting his ropes. “Where’s Jamie?”

Angus shifted back against the wagon, “Dougal gave ‘im the rent coin before he ran. Last we saw he was getting his horse, and yours.”

Mr. Gowan moved his hands carefully, then dug another small leather purse from his pocket as the guards looked away.

“Maybe I’ll just take everything you have here! If you won’t tell me where the Fraser boy is and his concubine colonist wife?” The voice made my blood run cold and I dropped back onto my back under the wagon, breathing in quietly as Captain Randall’s words boomed in Dougal’s face.

Mr. Gowan pushed the satchel of coin under the wagon. “Take it, before we lose all the rent and all the money for the cause.”

I slid it carefully across the grass and then pressed it in-between my chest and the corset. After I was done, I rolled over and cut Angus’ ropes. Lifting my leg up, I peered to the side and stared at Captain Randall’s back as Dougal stood silent and stoic.

“Maybe I’ll kill the clan’s war-chieftan! Surely your brother couldn’t stand a war in your honor? I’d imagine he’s too far gone to raise a blade!” He spat the words in Dougal’s face, “Tell me where the coin is, MacKenzie.”

Dougal cleared his throat, “I told ye’, I sent three men back to the castle with what we had, don’t have more than my own personal coin on me and the grain we’re due back to Castle Leoch. You’ve seen the few pigs we’ve got, an ox.”

I slid down under the wagon, voice soft as I reached for Murtagh’s ropes. “I’ll see you all back at the castle.” Untying them, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it once. His hand was rough against mine, but he squeezed my fingers once in return. As I moved all the way down, I reached Rupert and sliced through his ropes, freeing his hands before I rolled over and crouched up behind the wagon.

“I don’t believe you,” Captain Randall’s voice was harsh, angry.

There was crunching on the grass and I pressed back against the wagon, moving quickly around to the back as a redcoat moved to check around it. When I looked up, there was a man in front of me, eyes as wide as my own.

I recognized him in the low light, same young face and wide eyes — the colonel who had held me up after Captain Randall’s beating. We stared at each other in silence. He stared at me for another moment, then walked back around to the other side of the wagon, clearing his throat.

“Captain, I think we can trust the Laird’s brother, there is no hint of the coin in any of the wagons, just half-rotten grain and the livestock we’ve already seen.”

It was enough of a distraction for me to sprint down the hill again. When I reached the forest, I dove towards the underbrush, breathing hard as the coins pressed against my chest. I had to find Jamie and my horse, there was no way I could get back to Castle Leoch on my own.

I pressed forward once I caught my breath, picking my way back through the forest and walking parallel to the hill so I could keep an eye out for it. As I walked, I tried to listen, wary of boars, bears, and an errant redcoat. The colonel and I were on even ground again — I didn’t hesitate to think he would turn me back over to Randall if we crossed paths again.

Ahead, I heard the sounds of a stick breaking and pulled back, thankful the shadows were longer and darker towards the thicker areas of trees. There was a soft neigh and I felt my heart rise to my throat.

Clutching my knife, I inched forward, hesitant to breathe until I saw two horses quickly and quietly picking their way through the forest, Jamie between them.

I broke out into a run, gasping his name, “Jamie.”

He turned, just before I reached him, dropping the reins a second before I dropped my knife and threw my arms around his neck. He grabbed me, holding me hard against him as I jumped into his arms. His hand was tight against the back of my head, holding me flush against his chest as he breathed hard.

“I dinnae know where ye’ were, I just hoped ye’ would be safe —“

“I’m okay,” I pulled back, staring at him, my eyes running over his face. There was a tiny cut above his eye, but the rest of him was unscathed. He seemed to be taking stock of me as well, and I reached up to touch his cheek. “I’m okay. I went back — to see if they had you.”

“Back ta’ the hill?” He stared at me, his jaw dropping open, “ _Lass_ —“

I smiled a little, “He didn’t see me. I cut the ropes for Murtagh, Rupert, Angus, and Mr. Gowan.” Sinking back to my feet, I pulled the coin from my corset and held the bag up to him. “And I got these.”

Jamie was speechless, staring at me as he shook his head, “I — all the coin. We have all the coin?”

“All of it, the worst Randall can do is take some of the stupid pigs Mr. Gowan didn’t want in the first place.” The surge of adrenaline was fading and I felt like I was coming down off a high as I breathed in sharply. “But we should go, Dougal told Randall he sent three men to the castle with the coin. If Randall thinks he can catch up to the non-existent party — or find us — he’ll be on the roads.”

He started to nod, still staring at me for a solid moment. “Ay, you’re right. Get on, we’ll go to an old watch house off tha’ path, they won’t find us, then we can set out to Leoch through the mountains.”

I nodded, carefully tucking the coin back against my body as I stood in front of him. Hesitantly, I reached out, touching his arm. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He glanced away from the horses, a gentle smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “I ken I would have slaughtered them all if ye’ had been caught.”

I grinned up at him, taking a half step forward and then pressing a quick and hard kiss to his cheek. Pulling back, I retrieved my knife from the grass and grabbed onto my horse’s saddle, swinging myself up and sheathing my knife back onto my thigh. Jamie mirrored me, his sword on his hip, but his gun nowhere to be found. I knew it had to be back with the rest of the men, but I didn’t feel as worried now that I was next to him.

We rode through the forest as quietly as we could, leaving ground between us and the redcoats. I had to trust that Dougal and the rest of them would be okay, Randall wouldn’t kill them, to do so would start a war the redcoats weren’t ready for. The thought still turned my stomach.

It didn’t take long to reach the roads that snaked through the forest. Jamie went first, moving up onto the road with his hand on his sword as he motioned me forward. As we crossed, we spurred the horses faster, going deeper into the forest on the other side. I knew we were snaking back towards Leoch, but everything looked so similar in the shadows and moonlight I couldn’t differentiate one direction from another.

I was starting to feel tired, leaning forward on my horse as we trudged past creeks and rocks. Jamie stuck to a non-linear path, taking us around fallen logs and up to the crest of hills, then back down.

Just as I was yawning, I saw a small cabin in the distance, no bigger than one room, with wooden shutters covering two windows at the front. Jamie slowed his horse, then dismounted. He turned and looked up at me, “Home sweet home.”

I laughed lightly, jumping off my horse and walking with him to the small covered area behind the cabin. Tying both of the horses off, Jamie collected what little was attached to his saddlebags and I did the same.

The interior of the cabin was pitch black, but it didn’t phase him as he walked in and instinctively bent down to start the fire. Within minutes there were sparks as the hearth sprung to life, casting long shadows on the walls. Most of the inside was covered in dirt and cobwebs, clearly unused for a while. Jamie stood back up and brushed off a wooden chair, motioning for me to sit down as he stepped back outside.

I dropped the small medical kit and the provisions I had left onto the table, digging out a fresh piece of cloth before he stepped back inside. “Forest is clear, we should be safe, no reason for tha’ bastards to know where this is.”

Looking up at him, I motioned to the chair. “Sit down, let me at least wipe that cut off.”

He sighed, but took a seat on the chair, balancing as I leaned down with some alcohol on the cloth. Jamie winced and looked up at me as I wiped off the cut, I smiled back at him. “How many days is it to the castle?”

“Mm,” He moved his head a little, frowning, “This way probably three since we’ll ride straight through.”

I pulled the piece of cloth back, satisfied he wouldn’t get an infection. Crouching down in front of him, I pulled the piece of fabric out of my hair, letting it down and sighing. “Not too bad — I think I’m done with the road for a while.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he smiled gently. “I ken Dougal is shocked ye’ made it this long.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling the satchel of coins out of my corset and tossing them onto the table. With a deep breath, I sighed it back out almost instantly. “Jamie…” I couldn’t keep going forward, back to Castle Leoch, back to the very real danger of war between the clans and the British.

He reached forward, a line appearing between his brows. Pushing my hair back, he frowned. “What is it, _uan_? Ye’ handled redcoats, Randall, and hell, even marrying me.”

I swallowed, staring at a spider as it scurried across the floor.

“I need to tell you something.”

I looked back up at him and then stood, wringing my hands together. Jamie stayed seated, watching me pace back and forth as I tried to keep my breathing even and collect my thoughts. I wasn’t sure how I should approach it — clearly the stones had meaning, there was the whole song the bard had sung in the Hall — but that felt like eons ago.

Fear choked me as I stopped, standing in front of him. “I need you to promise me you’ll listen. That you won’t be upset.”

He nodded slowly, looking me up and down, almost as if he was trying to understand what I was thinking. “Of course.” Clearing his throat, he sat up slightly and hesitated. “Whatever it is, I trust ye’.”

I nodded, my stomach in knots as I inhaled slowly. “I’m not from here.” I cleared my throat, looking away from him as I blew out a breath. “I’m not from the colonies either. I am from America… but from America almost three hundred years from now.” There was silence as I turned and looked back at him, his elbows were still on his thighs, staring at me as I swallowed. “I was born in 1996, in Georgia. A year ago my dad died from a stroke, six months ago my mom died from cancer.” Jamie’s expression didn’t change as my voice shook. “I came to Scotland for a vacation, someone told me to go visit Craigh na Dun. When I was there, something happened — I…” I trailed off, terrified. “I woke up and I was here.”

The fire crackled in the background. I turned to look at him again, scared of what I would see, of what he would say. The silence was too stifling, too uncomfortable as he pressed his lips together.

“Please say something.” I gasped, my stomach rolling with nausea.

Jamie sucked in a breath, then exhaled, looking down at the floor and then back up at me. “Ye’ wouldn’t be the first ta’ say Craigh na Dun brought them here.”

I could feel my hands shaking as I stared at him. His eyes flickered down and his face fell as he noticed. As he stood I took a half-step back and he stopped entirely, holding his hands up like I was one of the skittish horses back at the castle.

“I would never hurt ye’, _uan beag_.” He swallowed, then stepped forward when I didn’t move back again. Cautiously, he wrapped my hands in his, then squeezed them. Lifting them up, he blew hot air on my skin, frowning. “Yer chilled, ye’ should be sittin’ in front of the fire.”

I stared up at him, “I can’t, not until you say something about what I just told you. You should be questioning everything, questioning me.”

He let go of my hands, lifting one of his to touch my cheek. “Ye’ have no reason to lie to me. Are ye’ asking me to take ye’ back? To Craigh na Dun?” He searched my face, then spurred forward, “I will if that’s what you want. I ken something was different when Murtagh brought ye’ to the cottage but this…” He shook his head, refocusing on my face again. “Do ye’ want to go home, lass?”

I faltered, opening my mouth then closing it again as we stood nearly chest to chest. Finally, I found my voice as I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to make the decision a thousand times over the last month and I still don’t know.”

“And no one else knows?” He ran his thumb over my cheek, then sighed and dropped his forehead to touch mine. “Are ye’ alright? Nothing else is wrong then?”

I laughed shakily, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as I leaned into him, “No, that’s it.”

“Good,” Jamie chuckled softly, lifting his head before pulling my face closer to his. “Because I love you, I’ll do anything ye’ need.” He said it so softly, almost casual, but with a hint of urgency and seriousness, and it took my breath away.

I pulled him closer and kissed him, holding onto him as the words got choked in my throat. “I love you too.”

He wrapped his other arm around my waist, pressing us together as his lips moved against mine, soft but firm. When he pulled back just enough for us to breathe, he touched my jaw, then moved his hand around to the back of my head.

“Tell me about yer life.” He looked down at me, lips slightly parted before he swallowed. “I want to know it all.” Pushing my hair back, Jamie moved his hands so they were cupping my face instead. He smiled, running his eyes over my face, “What is it like?”

“The future?” I laughed, looking away for a second as I frowned. “I…” I looked back at him and grinned, “How long do we have? This may take a while.”

He pulled me gently forward, moving so we were both sitting in old chairs near the fire. I pulled a leg up, resting my chin on my knee as I smiled. “Well, I grew up in the country,” I looked over at him, catching his smile as he stared at me. “Georgia… I don’t know how to explain any of this.” I laughed, shaking my head as he reached over and pushed my hair back.

“What did ye’ do as a child?”

I nodded, clearing my throat. “I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. They came from a family who had a lot of land,” I was trying to figure out how to explain it in terms he would understand. “They sold the land and with the money, they were well off, enough that they paid for me to learn how to ride horses, paid for my education. I have a degree, I studied in school for physical therapy like I helped your shoulder.” I looked back at him, “I don’t have any siblings, but I have cousins and we spent so much time together when I was younger.”

I took a deep breath, watching as his smile grew wider. Jamie’s voice was soft when he finally spoke, “I’ve never heard ya’ talk this much.”

Laughing, I looked back at the fire, shaking my head a little. “I couldn’t. I didn’t know how much I could say and how much I had to keep to myself.” Turning to smile at him, I wondered, for a moment, if I was doing irreparable harm by telling him about how far life had gotten.

I decided I didn’t care.

“Do you want to hear about Scotland? I don’t know much of the history, but I think I can catch you up on the big things.”

He stared at me and then nodded slowly, his eyes bright. “I do, tell me what ye’ know.”

We migrated to a small bed in the corner, stuffed with old hay. I talked until my throat felt dry, then talked some more after sipping some of the whiskey from his flask. Jamie stared at me the entire time, his eyes full of wonder as I told him about wars — so many wars that I could remember the basics about — cars, airplanes, the way people sailed on huge boats with floating pools on them, and vacationed in places like Scotland because they loved the view.

I told him about my first trip to Edinburgh, then Inverness — about my parents, how far medicine had come and what it still failed at. He seemed to love the history the most, he asked questions I couldn’t answer — about presidents and politics that I couldn’t fully explain, how laws worked, just that was how the world was and how I had grown up.

“And Scotland? The Jacobites?” He finally whispered the questions, our foreheads resting together in the bed.

I shook my head, licking my lips as I sighed. “You fight hard, you’re all so brave and Scotland wants its independence, but not yet. It won’t happen this time, but it’s not all bad.” I smiled softly, touching his cheek. “All I know about now is that there’s a battle in Culloden three years from now and the highlanders fight so bravely, but you lose.”

It seemed like all the air left his lungs as he sunk back in the bed. Jamie stared up at the ceiling, breathing in shakily as he ran a hand through his hair. “Then why are ye’ helping us?”

“Because I care about you all.” I watched as he looked back at me. “I care about you, Dougal, Angus, Rupert, Mr. Gowan — Murtagh saved my life when I came through those stones. I was so confused, but you all trusted me enough to take me to Colum, to keep me safe. Maybe things do change in a year, two — ten — a hundred even, but that doesn’t lessen how grateful I am. And I’ll do what I can now, in the moment, to show that and help.”

He reached over and cupped my face gently, running his thumbs over my cheeks as he shook his head. “I ken we didn’t deserve meeting ye’, _uan_.”

I smiled at him softly, turning my head in each direction to kiss his thumbs. “I’m happy I did.”

He half exhaled, half laughed, then leaned in to kiss me, pulling me against him under one of the blankets from our saddle rolls. I didn’t care about the cabin, the redcoats, the time spent in a place unfamiliar and unwelcome — I only cared about the moments where my chest ached because he was with me. I only wanted to remember the seconds I caught him smiling, laughing, eyes bright and red hair vibrant.

Jamie pulled me against his chest, kissing my temple. “Sleep, I’ll keep watch for now.”

I tucked myself into him, sighing before letting myself drift off for a while. I knew I would be no use to him exhausted, especially once we started back on the road to Castle Leoch tomorrow. It would be better for us both if I was rested and then let him nap just before we left, so that’s exactly what we did.

By the time the sun was rising, I was putting out the fire and Jamie was stirring in the small bed.

He stretched, barely asleep for more than an hour, but he didn’t seem cranky, just wearier than the rest we both got at the tavern. I rose from in front of the hearth and passed him a flask and some food, dropping a kiss to his head after he sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Horses are fine, I checked on them while you were sleeping.”

He shot me a look, then sighed. “Glad ye’ didn’t get eaten by a bear.”

I grinned at him, “You would have heard me scream.”

Jamie smiled, finishing the few bites of breakfast before he stood up and brushed his kilt off. “An’ I would have gone toe to toe with a bear for ye’.”

“What a romantic,” I laughed, heading outside with him to gather the horses. I felt light, like the heaviest weight in the world had been lifted off my chest.

We both jumped up and he led us to the side, away from the little cabin and deeper into the woods. Except in the morning light, it didn’t look as disorienting, I could finally see hints of the mountains, the high and lowlands around us as we rode under trees where birds were softly waking up and past streams.

He looked over at me as we crossed one of the creeks, “Willa?”

“Hm?” I turned my head, smiling at his expression.

“Do ye’ regret having to marry me?”

I wanted to stop my horse, stop short so I could process the question, but instead, I reached over in the dead space between us. His hand lifted from the saddle and his fingers touched mine. I grabbed onto him and squeezed hard.

“No, I’d do it again, the exact same way, to have the exact same moments.”

Jamie nodded, almost to himself as he squeezed my fingers back, then let my hand go so we could both refocus on the horses and the forest. When he smiled at me again, he seemed as light as I felt.

“Tell me more about yer life?”

I filled the morning air with more stories of my childhood, learning to drive, vacations to the beach, and the recent memories of my parents’ burials. But I also lingered on telling him about arriving in Inverness, the full story of falling through the stones — and the moment I remembered meeting him, knowing things would be alright the first day at Castle Leoch when we sat in front of the fireplace.

He interrupted every little while, filling in stories of time at Lallybroch, why the key on my finger and his was important, how life was with Jenny on the farm, with his father and his mother who wanted him to grow up educated. He had been in France for a while, recovering from an injury, seen bloody battles and carried men home to wives.

“Ay,” He glanced at me, “That night was my favorite too, sittin’ in front of the fire, ye’ fixed my shoulder and you were so…” He shook his head, “Soft, kind — I knew I was as far gone as I could get.”

I smiled over at him, unable to keep it off my face as he grinned back.

“I love ya’, lass.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you all thought I'd have Jamie get hurt. It's like you don't even know me! I'm far too much of a sap for that, especially knowing I had to finally have them talk about everything that's happened, especially Craigh na Dun. Much of the rest of the plot deviates strongly from the book/show from this point forward! Points to anyone who can figure out who Jamie is talking about when he mentions the henge and someone else with a "story" of it.


	10. 10 | Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Frasers continue their journey back to Castle Leoch. Of course, the road can't be simple.

It was a thousand times easier to just travel with Jamie. There were no creaking wagons or guards trotting back and forth from the front of the group to the back, it was just the forest, our horses, and idle conversation. I felt like I learned more from him in the hours picking our way through the countryside than I had since arriving here. He was chattier, ease settling over his shoulders as he talked about Jenny, Lallybroch, his time in wars, and being so involved in his uncles’ clan and lives.

“So if Colum dies…” I trailed off as I ducked my head under a branch, “Dougal becomes Laird? And if Dougal and Colum are both gone…”

“I ken it should go to Hamish, but he’s just a lad.” Jamie glanced back at me, slightly ahead as he picked out the right path. “Next fit Mackenzie would be I, on account of my mother.” He cleared his throat, frowning, “I could default, but tha’ clan may elect me anyway.”

I spurred my horse forward so I was next to him again on the narrow path. Looking over, I carefully looked him up and down as he sat perched in the saddle. The Fraser kilt, more vibrant than the others I had seen him in, was slung over one shoulder, only visible from the front as both of our cloaks were made out of thick dark green material. He’d left his hood down since we were off the roads, his hair wasn’t as much of a beacon here.

He glanced at me with a little smile, “Yes?”

I smiled back at him. It was still a little foreign, wrapping my mind around the way the system worked now. I knew Colum’s right was at the head of the clan because of his birth, and I assumed the way Dougal took up as war chieftain was a mutual decision —especially after taking Colum’s disease into consideration. There was a small part of me that couldn’t help connecting it to a hierarchy like the British royals, making Jamie effectively third in line, and, as my brain screamed at me with just a hint of kindergarten excitement, a prince.

“Just trying to decide if Dougal would off you just to make sure Laird goes to him.” I laughed slightly, genuine concern marring the light-heartedness as I frowned. “You’re useful to him, but what happens if that runs out?”

“Ay,” Jamie sighed, looking up through the trees as small droplets of rain began to fall. Not many of them reached us under the canopy, but he pulled the hood of his cloak up anyway. “I told ye’, I went to France after getting injured, before Randall and the lashings.”

I nodded, pulling my hood up as I glanced over him. I’d yet to figure out what happened exactly.

He rubbed the back of his head, avoiding my eyes. “All I remember was being on the road, with the mercenaries —“ The group of men he was with before me, before France, and before seeking solace at Castle Leoch with the price on his head — Jamie finally looked at me. “I ken I was hit with something, late one evenin’, split my skull, probably would have killed me but one of the men knew me, knew my ken. Dougal got me on a boat to France and when I woke up a monk was tellin’ me na’ ta’ move. Couldn’t see for a bloody month straight, blind.”

“Oh my god,” I didn’t know what else to say, staring at him as we rode in silence. My mind was racing, he was with a group who knew him, at the height of tension between Dougal and Colum over the support of the Jacobite cause and the beginning of tensions with Britain.

“Do you… He wouldn’t have paid someone to —“ I couldn’t finish the thought, my stomach churning.

Jamie looked ahead, frowning as he sucked in a breath. “I ken I’ll never know, but makes a man think.”

It did.

I tightened my grip on the reins, staring ahead as the rain became steadier, a light mist covering the forest as we moved deeper into it. It felt heavy suddenly, like there was a pressure on my chest as I looked back over at him.

Jamie was looking down at his ring, running his thumb over it, deep in thought before he looked back up. When he caught my gaze, a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “I’m okay, lass.”

I didn’t believe him, but I nodded regardless. The coins we split between us, Jamie with the rent money and myself with all the coin meant for France and for the Jacobites, were heavy burdens. If one of us was separated from the other, or, god forbid, we met redcoats on the road, we would lose them and more. And I didn’t want to imagine what the MacKenzie’s were capable of if I was the one to return and not Jamie.

“Do you want to be Laird?” We were farther into the journey when I looked over at him again, having ridden in silence for no more than thirty minutes.

He hummed for a moment, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “Na’, never have.” Looking over to me, he shrugged. “I was raised ta’ expect it,” he frowned again, “When I was at Castle Leoch as a lad, I heard too much. Colum and Dougal fight like bears, back and forth over anything they can, the Laird was never meant ta’ be a split position, and it’s hard enough for brothers to come together united.”

“Which is why Dougal is so for the Jacobite cause and —“ I was assuming, “— Colum doesn’t know about the coin I’m holding.”

Jamie laughed, grinning at me. “Ay, I’d imagine Colum would be shaken if ye’ showed him yer coin and mine.”

It was dirty money, tinged with memories of Jamie’s shirt ripped in half and shocked gasps of people from Fort William to Inverness. It was proud, taken because of Dougal’s quick tongue and effective speeches. Shillings covered in the promise of redcoat blood.

His smile faded. “I suppose I’d do it, if Dougal and Colum were both gone, it’s what I was raised to, and rightfully my responsibility. Letitia and Hamish deserve honorable lives when Colum goes, and I could ensure tha’ at the castle as Laird.”

“But it isn’t what you want.” It wasn’t a question, just a genuine statement as I watched him frown again. “What if you don’t have to? What else would you want to do with your life? Your future?”

He clicked his tongue, pulling his horse back a few steps to match stride with mine as he smiled at me. “My uncle, Jared Fraser, owns a winery in France. I ken I’d like to revisit it. I was there during my schooling, at University.” He reached his hand out, resting it on my leg as we rode side by side. “Though now, I see the future a bit differently.”

I smiled back at him, shaking my head. “I wonder why?”

“No idea, they always warn lads about pleasin’ a woman.” The smile he gave me was positively dirty, “I ken I could be fine anywhere as long as yer in my bed.”

“ _Jamie_ ,” I laughed loudly, looking away and pulling my horse ahead of his. When I glanced back at him, he was grinning from ear to ear. “I’m serious, what do you want to do? You don’t have to stay in Scotland.”

It took him less than a minute to pull back up next to me. “I am serious, _mo ghràdh._ I never thought of much other than what I had to do before ye’ fell into my life by way of my uncle.”

I shook my head, “Murtagh should be thanking me he wasn’t shot, though I do owe him for not getting blown apart by a musket.” Looking down at my arm, I pushed the sleeve up and surveyed the wound that has scarred, leaving a divot much like the ones across Jamie’s back. Rain peppered my skin as I stared at it. “It feels like it was forever ago.”

“But it healed as I told ye’.” His voice was soft, just carrying between us. “Do ye’ think you’ll ever go back?”

I sucked in a breath as I looked up at him, hesitating. “I… I don’t know. I thought about it a lot in the first days and weeks here. I was with you on the road, then Mrs. Fitz and the castle. I don’t have much medical training, just basic knowledge and what was left in the book for me to learn.”

I pulled my sleeve back down and then raised my eyes again to see him watching me carefully, tentatively.

“And now?”

“I can’t decide.” My chest felt tight, but I didn’t want to lie to him either way. “I can’t fathom leaving you.”

He nodded, like that was the only answer he needed. “Ye’ need only tell me, and I’ll take ye’ back to the stones.” Jamie adjusted in the saddle, watching me for another long moment, then giving me a sad smile. “I wouldn’t want ye’ to stay because of me.”

“Thank you.” I balled my left hand into a fist, feeling the cool ring against my skin as we stared at one another.

We only stopped once, right when the rain cleared a little to gather water and take a break for the horses. Sitting on the bank of the creek, I leaned my head back, closing my eyes for a moment just to take it in. Next to me, Jamie reached out, then pulled me closer to his side.

I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder instead. “This is peaceful.”

“Mm,” He hummed in agreement, then tilted his head down to look at me. Running a hand through his hair, Jamie paused for a moment as he looked down at me. I smiled back before he kissed my temple, his hand running up and back down my side.

I kissed his cheek, closing my eyes as I soaked in the moment. He held me tightly against him for one more second before pulling back. I didn’t hear it at first, but as Jamie was getting to his feet, I finally picked up on branches breaking.

Scrambling up from the bank, I watched as Jamie drew his sword, silence around us as the horses idled next to the creek. He looked back at me over his shoulder and then nodded towards my horse. “Stay here.”

Terror flooded my veins at the thought of him walking off into the thicket and not returning, but whatever the noise was — animal or redcoat — I wouldn’t be any help, just a distraction to him. I hung back, nauseous as I watched him walk forward, quiet and agile as he gripped the sword and disappeared behind a few trees.

Grabbing my horses’ reins, I checked the coin satchels in my saddlebag and his, then turned back around, surveying the area. There was a flash of red and I whipped my head around, a gunshot echoing through the forest.

I reached under the fabric of my dress, wrapping my hand around my knife and pulling it out as the horses both neighed and side-stepped behind me. My heartbeat was in my ears as I watched a man step out of the forest in front of me, hand on the sword at his waist.

Captain Jonathan Randall smiled at me, “Mrs. Fraser.”

I tightened my grip on the knife, raising my chin as I stared at him. My voice would shake if I opened my mouth, so I stayed quiet, eyes flickering around him and behind him, searching for any hint of another redcoat. The gunshot made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end as I thought of Jamie.

“It’s polite to respond to an officer’s greeting.” Randall snarled the words, his lip lifting as he sneered at me. “But you’ve been surrounding yourself with ruffians and Highlanders, so I don’t feel surprised at your lack of decorum.”

Shifting to hold the knife in front of me, I squared my shoulders. “I fail to see how you could understand the rules of decorum and courtesy since you beat women, abuse families, and raid camps.”

His eyes roved over me, making my skin crawl as he sucked his teeth and smiled up at the sky for a moment. “Strong talk, I often wondered what was taught in the colonies.”

“Your king isn’t popular,” I snapped back, watching as he stepped forward casually, leaves and branches crunching under his boots.

Randall looked back at me, nodding his head for a moment. “Interesting, perhaps I’ll take that up with my superiors. I’m certain I could find some of your family there and see what they have to say for you.”

“No one speaks for me but myself.” I stepped forward, barely a foot away from him. “And you don’t scare me.”

He chuckled, the smile cracking his face as he snorted. “You’re very brave suddenly. Anything to do with your new husband? Has he treated you well?” Randall’s lip curled again, looking down at my dress, “James Fraser, was it?”

One more step and I could lunge for him. He hadn’t even unsheathed his blade, his gun holstered and locked into place at his waist. My gaze flickered up to him as I smiled evenly. He didn’t see me as a threat.

“Sad you couldn’t make it to the wedding, Captain Randall. It was a true Highlander celebration.” He shifted, careful not to break the space between us by inching closer.

Another gunshot echoed in the distance.

I kept my eyes on Randall, holding my breath as his smile widened.

“It sounds like you won’t be a Fraser much longer.”

Before I could register I had made the decision, I was lunging for him, knife up as I threw myself at him. Randall unsheathed his sword, but I was on him before he could fully get a grip on it. It clattered across rock and grass, clanging as I landed on top of him. It lasted only a minute before he lifted his knee and kicked me, throwing me to the ground.

His wig was askew as he straddled me, eyes narrowed as I held the knife up against his throat.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Try me.”

He wrapped his hands around my wrists, twisting them painfully as I freed a leg from my dress, lifting it to knee him in the balls. He sucked in a breath and I hoped his bloodline was finished as I threw all my weight into him, twisting one wrist to free it from his hand as I ripped the powdered wig off. Underneath his brunette hair was slicked back and greasy. I threw the fistful of wig into his face and felt the knife drop from my hands as I slammed my shoulder up against his.

Randall shouted out as I scrambled, reaching out for the knife again. One of his arms came up, throwing it against my throat and pinning me to the ground as he groped for the sword on the other side of me. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, the pressure on my throat making a surge of adrenaline shoot through me.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the knife, swinging it back and slicing him deep across the cheek.

He cried out, a sound that echoed across the trees as he pulled back. I pushed up and scurried backward in the rocks and grass. Randall pressed a hand against his cheek, blood pouring from his face as the knife glinted in my hand.

There was a crash and I turned my head sharply, expecting more men, but seeing Jamie instead. His cloak was gone and his shirt — once pristine only days ago for our wedding — was stained with red. He held a pistol loosely in his hand as he slowed to a stop, raising it as Randall knelt on the bank.

Randall raised his head, looking between the two of us. “If you murder me, you’ll never be free. My men will rip apart every single town, woman, and child in all of Scotland.”

Jamie notched a bullet into the chamber, glancing at me on the rocks.

I looked back at Randall and swallowed.

“Let him go, Jamie.”

Randall turned sharply, his eyes on me as he reached for his sword. I jumped forward and wrapped my hand around the hilt, holding it out. “Don’t press your luck.”

He staggered to his feet, hand slick with blood as he tried to stop it pouring from his cheek. I couldn’t tell if I had caught his eye, but he was unsteady, in no state to fight us both, especially with Jamie trained on him. Randall took a step forward and I shifted to the side, watching as he walked past me. Jamie’s hand was steady as he kept the gun on Randall’s back as he stumbled back into the trees and towards the road.

I turned and grabbed the horses who had skidded back across the creek to the other side. Holding onto Randall’s sword, I grabbed both reins and pulled them back towards Jamie. When I neared him, I recognized the pistol with a flip of my stomach. It was his.

He finally turned his attention away from the forest, eyes flickering over me before he grabbed the reins of his horse.

“Are ye’ okay?”

I nodded sharply, sucking in a breath. “Yes, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

He nodded back, swinging himself up onto his horse. I followed him, pulling myself up to sit halfway on the saddle before Jamie was pulling away, setting off deeper into the forest. I adjusted, galloping after him as I hunched down in the saddle. The speed we took off was enough that we couldn’t converse casually like we had been, and it was a grateful few moments for me to process the terrified knots in my stomach leftover from Randall straddling me, nearly choking me.

I threw his sword into the forest, flinging it where he would never find it and buckled down, kicking my horse’s sides so he would go faster.

The stains on Jamie’s shirt were getting worse and I realized with a sinking feeling it was because he was the one bleeding. Before the light could completely disappear on us, I whistled, getting his attention. He finally slowed, deep in the forest as I jumped off and grabbed at the satchel I had the limited medicine in. He staggered down, bracing himself on his horse before sinking down.

I dropped to my knees and pulled his shirt up, there was a clear hole through his shoulder, a harsh and up close bullet wound that turned my stomach. Dumping everything out, I drenched cloth with whiskey from my flask and began to wipe it out.

Jamie sagged forward against me, his face pale in the dusk as he sucked in a breath.

A wave of white-hot rage filled me as I thought of Randall. He was right, infuriatingly so, if we had killed him his body would have been found and it would be immediately linked back to the MacKenzies, if not Jamie directly. I wanted to see the light leave his eyes.

“Ow,” Jamie moaned against my shoulder as I refocused on the wound, careful to plug the bullet wound with the final bit of spare cloth I had. Ripping one of my sleeves off at the shoulder, I made the best sling I could, pulling back with blood on my hands.

I was shaking when Jamie leaned back.

“ _Uan,_ ” He reached out with his other hand, wrapping it around mine. “I’m okay.”

Lifting my head, I sucked in a ragged breath. Reaching up, I pushed his hair back and shook my head at him. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

He swallowed, nodding at me as his eyes ran over my face in the moonlight. Emotions ranged on his face as he stared at me, breathing in slowly as he pushed back up to stand. I rushed to help support him as he grimaced. With one good arm and my help, he struggled but managed to pull the stained shirt back over his head, letting one of the sleeves hang as he kept his arm in the sling underneath it.

We didn’t have time to talk about what needed to be said. I let it be, watching to make sure he could get up onto his horse properly before I tied off my horse to his. Jamie watched me in half confusion, half exhaustion. He didn’t start to protest until I threw myself up behind him.

“I ken I can ride —“

“No,” I said it firmly, wrapping my cloak around him as I pressed my heels into the horse’s sides. His stallion took off with both of us on the back as Jamie sank back against me.

I wasn’t certain where I was going, so I kept us on a straight course through the night as Jamie slept against me. My heart was in my throat as his head rested against the side of my neck. I could at least feel his warm breath as he tried to sleep off the pain. I was too worried, too inexperienced to figure out how to accurately help his pain and heal his shoulder.

It was like out of nowhere I felt like I wasn’t fit for any of this. I couldn’t live day to day with the ever-present fear of death, the threat of everything being ripped out from under us. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Jamie.

I was too keyed up to sleep or rest, and as dawn broke I finally recognized parts of rocks, the prominent tail feathers rising in front of us over the branches. Sitting forward, I unwrapped my cloak from myself and adjusted it around him before spurring the horses forward.

We broke out onto the road and I breathed out, looking around warily, but this close to Castle Leoch no redcoat would dare to stray.

The horses quietly passed the corpses from over a month ago and I turned my head, closing my eyes. They had been raided, outfits torn as highwaymen or the Watch took what of value the redcoats had been carrying on them. They served as a marker though, no more British were waiting to jump on MacKenzies this way.

I remembered some of this journey, half asleep, I knew that the road curved, leading down through hills and past scattered homes and farms. As the morning waned, the sun rising in the sky, Jamie finally stirred against me.

He sat up quickly and I reached out, steadying him as he groaned, pulling his shoulder. His head turned sharply, surveying the surroundings. He couldn’t shake the sleep from his voice as he slurred, “Are ye’ okay?”

“I’m fine,” I pressed my fingers against his side, his skin slightly cold even though the cloak was across him. “Sit back, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. We’re so close to the castle.”

Jamie cleared his throat, raising his hand and pressing it against his face. “Ye’ got us here?”

“Yes,” I glared at the back of his head. “Now listen to me before you throw yourself off this horse.”

He sunk back slightly, letting me wrap my arms back around his waist, effectively buckling him in with my body as the final hills rose ahead of us. There were small homes scattered, getting nearer as Jamie moved the cloak. One woman looked up from the field and froze next to the road.

I pushed the horses past her, swallowing as I held onto Jamie. Raising my chin, I adjusted us both as we went up the hill and then down slightly, before making the final ascent towards Castle Leoch.

We didn’t have to wait for anyone to pass, I drove the horses directly into the keep, throwing myself off the horse first as I watched a stableboy run off into the castle.

“Lass?” Mrs. Fitz appeared first, grabbing at her skirts as I helped Jamie down off the horse. “Jamie!” She called out his name, rushing over in the mud to grab onto him, helping him stagger onto his feet.

“He was shot,” I rambled quickly, wrapping my arm around him and supporting him, “Redcoats on the road when we came back.” I couldn’t gather my thoughts, “— Dougal — Are they back?”

Mrs. Fitz’s eyes were wide as she stared at me, “Ay, this morning.”

“Go get them.” I held onto Jamie tightly. “I’m taking my husband downstairs.”

Her hands fell away from Jamie as I urged him forward. He turned his head to look at me, there was more color in his cheeks, but it fell away with the shadows of the castle as we made our way back down to the small cellar area I had called home weeks ago. I let him sink down onto the cot in the corner and moved around quickly, gathering supplies and then throwing them down next to him.

“I’m going to check this again.” I touched his shoulder as he grimaced and looked over at me. There were no protests but he looked uncomfortable as I tugged the shirt off of him again and unwrapped my hasty job on the road.

The door behind me banged open.

Jamie jerked on the bed and cursed fiercely as he held onto the sling. I jumped up and turned around, watching as Dougal descended the steps two at a time. When he saw us, he stopped short, glancing between the two of us before he looked at me.

“There,” I pulled the coins from my dress and threw them onto the table. “Now get out.”

Maybe it was misplaced anger, maybe it was justified — I didn’t care either way as I turned my back on him and returned to kneeling in front of Jamie. He was looking over my shoulder at his uncle as I untied the bandages and began to clean it again. The wound was thankfully straight through, but the muscle and skin would be damaged, just as much as it was on his back.

I heard footsteps retreating, then the door slammed shut again.

As I redressed Jamie’s shoulder, I choked on tears in the back of my throat. His hand lifted and then sank down to rest on the back of my head, holding me against him as I broke down finally, sobs echoing on the rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took me an extra day! I hope the chapter makes up for it! <3


	11. 11 | Laird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dougal and Colum have differing opinions on the future of Castle Leoch and the MacKenzie clan. Jamie has a decision to make over his future.

No one else came down to the cellar for the rest of the day. Just past sundown, I heard the final movements above our heads from the kitchen staff preparing food and the rest of the supplies that had come in from the rent.

I had to start the fire in the hearth myself, wiping a soot-covered hand across my face as Jamie laid on the cot. I refused to let him get up and find water to wash the blood off my hands and off his, instead venturing up to the kitchen and grabbing what I could. When I got back downstairs, he was sitting up, bracing himself back against the stone walls as he watched me pour the water in the pot to boil it.

Breaking off some bread and preparing a small plate, I stepped over to him and held it out. “Here, you have to be starving.”

He looked up at me, “And what about ye’? When’s the last time ye’ ate?”

I sat the plate on the cot next to him and turned away to check on the water. “I’ll eat as I get this water clean for us.” I was tired of it. It was exhausting boiling every bit of water that I had to use, from cleaning myself off to drinking, save for the few clear streams we came across in the countryside. I knew the risk was lower because of the lack of pollution now, but it still made me wish desperately for a tap that I could turn and instantly have an amenity I had always taken for granted.

Pushing my hair back, I turned halfway and ran my hand over the top of the workbench. My hand landed on a piece of ribbon and I pulled it back over, tying my hair back with two hands before checking the water again. When I was certain it was done, I pulled it from off the fire and dipped some clean rags into it.

Stepping back over to Jamie, I held the damp rag up and smiled at him. “Do you want to bathe yourself?”

He looked up at me from the cot, narrowing his eyes as he smiled. “Ay, only because I want ye’ to eat.” Taking the rag from my hands, he started wiping off his face as I sat down and picked at the plate of food. My dress was dirty and ripped, the sleeve was completely gone from my makeshift sling, while the hem was mangled beyond my comprehension of repair.

Jamie turned his head as he wiped off his neck with the cloth, looking me over.

As I chewed on a piece of bread, I looked back at him. We stared at each other in silence until he lost the mobility to reach his other shoulder. Putting the bread back down, I helped him turn on the cot and began the process of washing off his back, careful of the newly dressed wound.

He hung his head forward, sighing.

“Colum will want ta’ see us.”

“I know,” I responded quietly. “It can wait until morning.” Finishing up, I stood up from the cot and started to turn away.

Jamie’s hand shot out, wrapping around my arm to stop me. I glanced back over at him, pausing as he stared up at me. “Thank you, _mo ghràdh_ , for everything on tha’ road.”

I let out a breath and then covered his hand with mine. “Of course.” When he let me go, I stepped up the stairs far enough to latch the lock. Coming back down, I tossed the dirty rag into an empty bucket and reached behind myself to unlace the corset of my traveling dress. I could feel Jamie’s eyes on me as I let the layers drop, down to my shift as I got a cloth wet and warm.

It felt like heaven against my skin as I washed my face off first, pressing it against the back of my neck as I sighed. I picked at the other plate of food, crunching an apple as I sorted through the saddlebags from both our horses. Most of them were empty, my medicine and food provisions gone since the night before, along with most of what was in Jamie’s things.

I finally tugged the shift over my head, standing in the slight chill as I finished washing myself off fully.

“I ken I like this view better than any room upstairs.”

I shot him a grin over my shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to be resting.” Digging in the small chest near the hearth, I pulled out the only clothes I had left at the castle, the first dress Mrs. Fitz gave me. Pulling the clean shift over my head felt like heaven before I walked across the cool floor with another cloth for him.

“Do you need me to go get your other things?”

Jamie shook his head, leaning over to rest one elbow on his knee as he looked up at me. “Ay, no need. I ken I can sleep in this another night.”

“Ew,” It slipped out as I scrunched my nose. Sitting down on the cot next to him, I looked him up and down. “Are you _sure_?”

Jamie laughed, looking me up and down. “Do I smell, lass?”

I opened my mouth then closed it, making a face as I looked at him. With a laugh, I held out the second rag. “One more pass couldn’t hurt.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed up from the cot. I watched, pulling my legs up onto the blankets as he stood and finished cleaning off his legs. I didn’t want him to pull any of the bandaging and lackluster stitching I had done, but I also really didn’t want to be overwhelmed by the smell of blood while we slept. I wished it was a larger bed — yearning for the one in the tavern — but this one had to do.

Jamie untied the kilt and let it drop and I raised an eyebrow as my eyes racked over him. He caught me with a look over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t ye’ be resting?” He gave me a teasing look before sinking back down on the edge of the cot. The fire was already burning lower, casting shadows on the other side of the room as I scooted back in the bed, gathering the blankets and giving them a solid shake.

As they settled back down over us, I turned and curled up against Jamie’s chest. He turned his head and adjusted in the bed to better accommodate his injured shoulder before wrapping his other arm around me. I dropped a kiss to his chest, smiling against his skin.

“I love you.” I ran my hand over his stomach, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.

He leaned down and kissed my head gently, pulling me against his chest closer under the blankets. “I love you too, _uan_.”

Even though we were safe within the walls of the castle, it took me too long to fall asleep. Jamie’s chest began to rise and fall in an even pattern before I could even let my eyes fall shut and begin to relax. The silence of the castle was different from the silence of the road. While I could hear the rustling of branches and soft conversation of guards at camp, the castle’s oppressive stone walls dampened even the noise of the kitchen maids walking above us and the guards outside the walls.

When I woke up, Jamie was already awake, fresh clothes slung around him, a faded kilt that didn’t show the vibrant Fraser colors. I rubbed my eyes as I pushed up from the cot, watching as he turned away from the medical tome and raised a piece of fruit in his other hand, pointing down at it.

“Ye’ read this?”

I laughed, clearing the sleep from my throat. “Only when I want to make sure no one dies from sepsis.”

He took a bite and chewed for a moment, “What’s that?”

I pushed up fully, laughing again as I pushed my hair back and stretched. “Infection, uh —“ I wasn’t fully awake, blinking as I got up and walked over to him, half to check his shoulder and half to take a drink of whatever was in his glass. It was whiskey and my throat burned as I looked back up at him, squinting. “If it gets in your blood, you die. Starts with fever, it’s just dirty, and can cause an awful lot of pain.”

Jamie’s eyes widened, “Oh.”

“Keep this clean, please.” I patted his shoulder softly, searching out my dress from the chest. Kneeling on the floor as I dug everything out that I had, I turned to see his kilt from our wedding slung over a chair in the corner. As I stood up and dropped the corset and dress onto the cot, I lingered on the kilt.

Finally, I pulled my eyes away from it and dressed, finding my boots and pulling them back on, dried meat in the other hand as I hopped around Jamie in a little half-circle. He watched me with a half-smile, eyes soft as he finished the whiskey and tilted his head at me.

“Colum wants us as soon as ye’ get finished.”

I pulled my hair down from the ribbon and rearranged it as best as I could, “Done.” Together, we walked up out of the cellar to a bustling castle. In the kitchen, maids and chefs ran back and forth, smells mixing and trailing behind us in the corridors as Jamie partially led the way up the stairs. We twisted up to the tower together, passing the room I recognized as the first place I stayed in the castle.

Just in the corridor outside Colum’s office, Jamie slowed to a stop. I stopped next to him, quiet as we both heard the shouting coming from inside.

Dougal’s voice was booming, almost shaking the door as he yelled at his brother on the other side. I caught every few words, a mixture of English, but primarily Gaelic as they shouted at each other. Next to me, Jamie swallowed hard and stared at the wooden door. Whatever had brought this fight on wasn’t good, there wasn’t another soul around except for the two of us.

Resting his hand on his sword, Jamie looked over at me. “Suppose we should go in.”

I sighed and nodded, letting him take the lead and step up to the door to shove it open. I winced as Dougal turned his anger, words echoing as I stepped in behind Jamie.

“Ay, who tha’ —“ Dougal cleared his throat at the sight of his nephew, then cut his eyes to me as I pushed the door closed.

Colum stood up from his seat behind the desk at the sight of us. As he stepped around carefully, mindful of Dougal who was still angry to the side, Colum approached me. I could see the wobble in his legs, the way his hips splayed out side to side, unable to carry the weight of his upper body. Carefully he took my hands and smiled at me kindly.

“Congratulations on yer marriage,” the laird looked to Jamie, the smile growing wider, “Congratulations on not makin’ yer mother roll in her grave.”

I smiled at him gently, “Thank you, Colum.” He let go of my hands and I lifted my skirts to step to the side, still getting used to the thicker fabric as it was getting cooler outside. Turning my attention to Dougal, I exchanged a look with him as Jamie and Colum embraced.

When Jamie pulled back, he reached down into his sporran and pulled out his leather sack of coins. Throwing it onto the desk, he sighed. “Nearly lost my damn head for that.”

“More like your life.” I resisted the urge to fold my arms, taking a seat in front of the desk as I looked between the two MacKenzies. Jamie stepped over to stand next to me.

Colum picked up the bag of coin and weighed it in his hand, nodding, “A good price. Especially when we could have lost it all.” He wrapped his hand around the leather, squeezing it as he looked between Jamie and I. “Thank ye’, both of ye’ — for getting this back to Castle Leoch safely.” The laird looked at me in the chair, nodding his head, “I appreciate ye’, lass.”

Dougal scoffed and I cut my eyes back to him.

“Thank you, Colum.” My voice couldn’t keep the hard edge out of it as I stared at Dougal. “Is there a problem?”

He stared at me, eyes hard as Colum moved back around to sit behind the desk. As Colum sunk into his seat, Dougal set his jaw. “Just surprised ye’ came back, since we seemed ta’ be in disagreement last time we saw each other.”

“Last time I saw you, Jonathan Randall was shouting in your face and threatening you within an inch of your life.” Jamie’s hand came down on my shoulder, holding me to my seat as I glared at Dougal. “I think I’ve more than proved myself to the MacKenzies. I’m married to one.”

Colum sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Ye’, my brother let me know what occurred on the road between the redcoats and the rent party, of course, it could have been avoided had —“

“Enough,” Jamie finally spoke, his voice hard. “The redcoats are causin’ enough issue without it coming into tha’ castle, into this very room.” He turned his head to stare at Dougal, “And ye’d do well ta’ treat my wife kindly.”

“Ay, would have been better ta’ lose her on tha’ road.”

This time Jamie didn’t stop me as I jerked up from my seat. Dougal’s hand dropped to his weapon as I glared at him. “Go ahead, default to your sword, I didn’t come in here to be berated by you.” I looked him up and down. “I don’t know what you’d like to hear from me, because an apology will never come. You were obscenely reckless on the road, with Jamie’s life because of what —“

“ _Uan_.” Jamie reigned me back in and I cast Dougal a look, lip curling as I stepped back and remained standing. I could have shouted a thousand things, aired all that I had picked up from the road, from Jamie’s use as a show pony for the Jacobites, to Dougal’s coin I had carried on my very person to safety from the redcoats. But I wouldn’t — not at the risk of my life or Jamie’s.

Colum cleared his throat. “Can ye’ both stop?”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I stood next to Jamie. Dougal gripped the top of his sword tighter before turning his attention back to his brother.

“Thank ye’.” Colum shook his head, then refocused on Jamie. “We called ye’ both here because of what occurred on the road, the British are obviously a threat from everything Dougal has told me. I want yer opinion, lad.”

Jamie frowned, “On what?”

“Should tha’ MacKenzies move forward, send money ta’ the French, for the Jacobite cause?” Colum laid his hands on the desktop, the leather satchel sitting between them as I stared at it. My stomach rolled, all the coin that Dougal had skimmed was somewhere, and now he was allowing his brother to put the idea on the table that more money be split and sent.

There were people outside this castle, people who worked hard, tilled their land, worked before the sun rose and after it set, and Dougal wanted to take more from them. All of this for a cause that would never win, for people who would be swept up in the British tyranny like so many others.

Jamie stared at the bag, “I ken I’m not the one ta’ make that decision, Colum.”

“Ay, that’s what I said,” Dougal muttered.

Colum stared at Jamie, something sad behind his eyes. As he shifted in the chair, he squinted, pain twisting his expression. “Yer my nephew, lad, rightful Laird of Lallybroch, and I trust ye’.”

The statement seemed to make Dougal uncomfortable, the other man shifting as he stood in front of the bookshelves. I turned to stare at Jamie, echos of our conversation on horseback lingering in my brain. Jamie rested his hand at the top of his kilt, line between his brows as he stared at Colum.

Colum met his gaze. “Of course, I ken ye’ know yer input on this means yer fealty needs ta’ be sworn in hall. In front of everyone, there was already talk when ye’ weren’t here.”

Jamie shifted, moving his injured shoulder slightly as he looked between Dougal and Colum. “Is tha’ what this is about? My fealty ta’ the MacKenzies?”

Dougal shrugged, “We all know what tha’ people would like.”

I knew they were talking in English for my benefit because Dougal rattled something off in Gaelic that made the tension in the room climb higher. Colum snapped back, then Jamie chimed in, his tone dark.

Worry flooded my veins, twisting my stomach. Fealty could mean so many things, but most importantly, it meant that under the oath, Jamie could no longer take the task of Laird if Colum died. Dougal was even tenser as they fired back and forth at each other in Gaelic, voices rising as I stood in the middle of it all.

There was a lump in my throat and Jamie scoffed, exclaiming in Gaelic before turning towards the door. “Lass.”

I cast a look back at Colum and Dougal before turning to follow Jamie out the door. He didn’t slow, moving quickly down the stairs from the tower. The anger was rolling off him in waves, and I just followed as quickly as I could, afraid of what he would tell me when we did finally stop. He moved through the castle until we found Murtagh out near the side of the keep, leaning back against the stone and head tilted toward the sky.

“Ay,” Jamie shouted, getting his other uncle’s attention.

Murtagh leaned forward, taking us both in before a grin spread across his face. He threw an arm around Jamie, clapping him on the back then moved to me, smile growing gentler as he nodded at me and touched my arm.

“Good ta’ see ye’ both.” He pulled back, taking Jamie’s shoulder in and then looking back at me. “Ye’ shoot him, lass?”

I grinned, “No, he hasn’t deserved that yet.”

Jamie’s thoughts were elsewhere, his face twisting as he looked around, then nodded towards where the edge of the forest started at the end of the hill. “Murtagh, we need ta’ talk.”

We followed Jamie as he picked his way down the hill and stepped into the cover of the trees. From here, I could see the guards as they walked around and sat on the top of the stone walls. Murtagh leaned against a tree, raising an eyebrow at Jamie.

“Dougal wants to go to war.”

All the air left my lungs as I stared at Jamie. His face looked drawn the moment the words left his mouth.

“War,” Murtagh muttered, shaking his head, “Over tha’ lobsterbacks?”

Jamie nodded, lifting his hand to rub it across his face. He shot me a look, then glanced away just as quick. “Over them, over Randall — Colum wants me ta’ swear fealty, either return to Lallybroch or refuse Laird. He’s…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “He won’t be long.”

I leaned against a tree and tried to remember to breathe. It was the worst possible outcome, war on the doorstep of a castle who couldn’t accommodate it, and a Laird who couldn’t fight it. All over a cause that would never come to fruition, something that Jamie now _knew_ because of me.

Murtagh shook his head, absolute devastation on his face. “Ye’ can’t swear to him, to do that would give up everything yer mother worked for, yer father too. Dougal is just gettin’ the say now? What about Colum?”

“What about him?” I said quietly, clearing my throat as I looked up at the two Frasers, the two men who had saved me. “If he’s truly in this much pain, the only thing stopping him from rest is the thought of Leoch and what will happen to the people.”

Murtagh sighed, “I cannae let ye’ swear yourself, lad. Not now. I didn’t want ye’ to even consider it before, but Dougal…” His face twisted, scowl across his lips. “He’ll kill ye’.”

Jamie looked between us. “I know.” He let out a breath. “I ken Colum is ready to fold, to let Dougal take the place, but they cannae make the switch without it being brought ta’ the clan. I would be put forth as tha’ second option.”

Young, strong, already with reason to stand against the British — but also a promise of death if they did come to the castle doorstep.

I felt sick. Bracing my hands on my skirts, I let my back slide down the tree as I sat on the forest floor, staring ahead in horror. What was the option here? There were none that I could see that didn’t end with war, bloodshed, or death.

Murtagh said something to Jamie quietly, squeezing his good shoulder as he looked down at me. He didn’t speak, just gave me a sad look before stepping out of the forest to return to the castle.

Jamie sunk down to the grass next to me, a fluid motion even though his balance was off. Carefully, he reached over and took one of my hands.

“This is it, then.” I looked up at him. “What about Lallybroch? If you return there and the British find out…”

He gave me a sad smile. “Ye’ may be looking for a new husband any way I choose, _uan_.”

“No,” I choked on the word, feeling my eyes fill with tears again as my throat closed. “Jamie, I…” I sucked in a ragged breath, grasping at his hand. “I can’t watch you make any of these choices, they aren’t even a choice at this point! It’s die by the redcoats or die by Dougal or die by something else, and I —“

He leaned in and reached up, touching my cheek as he shushed me. “Breathe, _mo ghràdh_ , breathe.”

I stopped myself, breathing in and then out slowly, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and closing my eyes for a moment.

“What are you going to do?”

He kissed my temple and I looked back at him, our faces so close our noses were touching. “I wanted ta’ ask you.” Jamie’s eyes roved all over my face, taking me in as he spoke softly. “I ken it’s not the best options, I think I told ye’ on our wedding day that I wouldn’t make the best husband —“

“But you are.” I interrupted him, squeezing the back of his neck. “You are.” I wasn’t sure if I was assuring him or me as I licked my lips. “I can’t make this decision for you, I’m not even the right person to handle any of this.”

Touching my cheek, Jamie ran his thumb along my skin, his smile soft as he watched me. “But you are, _uan_. The best I’ll ever get,” He smelled like a fire, whiskey on his breath as he whispered. “Murtagh said he’ll stand with me, no matter what I do, and I want us to make the decision. I won’t take ye’ across the seas or even to the next countryside without knowing what you want.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay, what are the options?”

“The first is we stay here.” Jamie sighed. “Castle Leoch becomes my home and your’s, I swear my fealty to tha’ MacKenzies and refuse to do anything but remain here as a member of tha’ clan and under Dougal. Whatever that looks like, I become his right hand, most likely.”

I hated that option, I hated the thought of Dougal continuing to use him for his own gain.

“The second one,” His hand moved to touch my jaw, then rest against my neck, “Is we go back home, to Lallybroch, and I become the Laird there. I oversee the Fraser clan, the lands thereof and around it, and I pray the British don’t find me.” Jamie’s fingertips against my skin were warm, solid. “But if they do, I have no protection of any clan, just my own which is really just Murtagh now. And if the British take me or Randall comes for us both like he promised…” He looked torn, and for the first time ever, scared. “I cannae protect ye’ and that’s the only promise I made.”

I covered his hand with my own, my heart in my throat. “It’s okay, I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“There is a third option.” He swallowed. “I ken I could stay here, take up the Laird position and fight Dougal for tha’ honor. Not sure how well I’d be received but it is something ta’ consider.”

I nodded, mind running over all the possibilities. Every road was a dead end, no chance of anything but redcoats along it and the very real cost of what was at stake.

Jamie pulled his hand back, sitting next to me as he breathed in deeply. “Or, ye’ can go home, back to yer time, leave Scotland and me.”

My heart twisted like someone had taken hold of it. I shook my head, my voice breaking. “I can’t think about even…”

“Lass,” His own expression broke. “It would be safest for ye’, to go. Wouldn’t have to worry about ye’ either, if I’m gone, you’d be home, safe, all this just past.”

“I won’t.” I stared at him through tears. “I will not leave without you.”

Jamie nodded. “Guess we have ta’ decide then, MacKenzie or Fraser, Leoch or Lallybroch.”

I pressed my head against his again, holding onto him tightly as a cold breeze tore straight through my dress. Nothing could chill me faster than the sobering thought that there was no winning here, the harsh realities crashing down around me. I wasn’t willing to leave 1743 or leave Jamie in the past, and that meant I had to live with him through whichever dead end we chose.

He wrapped his arm around me tightly, pulling me against his chest as he rocked us both back and forth, face buried in my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you so, so much for every single hit. I truly cannot believe I've passed 1k people who have chosen to click on my story. Thank you so much, from the very bottom of my heart. <3 More soon from Willa and Jamie as things become so much more complicated for them.


	12. 12 | Duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willa and Jamie have to discuss the options they have left for escaping Leoch and the redcoats. A goodbye is said to a dear friend.

Mrs. Fitz called for us before too much time had passed. The castle didn’t expect us — but the MacKenzie Clan did.

A small part of me knew the parading wasn’t over, Jamie’s marriage to me was going to be celebrated, whether we liked it or not.

The tables were laden with food, seats at the front, in honored spots next to Colum and Leticia. It was more than I could comprehend, but it was a show. He grinned and bared it beside me, accepting congratulations for us both. I felt for Leticia for a moment, silent, stalwart, sitting next to a man who made all the grand gestures, smiled, and thanked everyone.

I knew I couldn’t handle it if Jamie actually became laird and that thought alone made my blood run cold.

Then it was done, Rhenish and whiskey-drunk men stumbling around the castle as we descended back to the cellar.

Regardless of Jamie’s shoulder, he was still expected to help old Alec at the stables with the few horses left to break and train. He would return to them and I would return to the cellar and the injuries, large and small, that plagued the castle and those who made the journey to me.

I had a feeling mine and Jamie’s sudden busy schedules had something to do with Dougal, and by proxy, Colum as well. The hours bled into days, the days bled into a week. I only saw Jamie at night, well after sundown, exhausted and barely able to eat he was so tired. I felt like it was the beginning of everything all again, trapped in the little cellar with no light and a less than enthusiastic guard to keep watch.

That was one thing at least, Dougal couldn’t get Angus or Rupert to agree to keep an eye on me.

“I never thanked ye’,” Angus muttered in the halls one afternoon, grabbing my elbow to stop me as I was hurried away by someone I didn’t know to tend to another minor wound. The guard shot Angus a cross look, but Angus returned it tenfold.

I looked up at him, fresh scarring above his eyes. They had fought their way out of Randall and the few guards with them. The colonel who had helped me killed by Dougal.

“Of course,” I stared up at Angus as his hand tightened on my elbow. Looking him up and down, I hesitated then whispered. “Anything else you need, you know where I am.”

“Ay,” He finally let me go, giving me the same look before I was pulled away.

The guard was on me constantly. I didn’t learn his name because he never offered it, and I didn’t bother. I stitched skin back together, splinted shinbones and fingers, eased the pain of falls and upset stomachs.

Busy work.

There was nothing I hated more than busywork.

After a week from our return from the road, I set Jamie down in the cellar, checking on the gunshot wound, wary of my workmanship. It wasn’t pretty, but it also wasn’t infected because of my constant concern over it.

He slumped against the table as I removed the sling. “Don’t overdo it, but I don’t think you need this anymore.”

I watched him test his mobility, wincing but nodding as he looked up at me. The days were weighing on him, and the decision that neither of us could make on what the future would look like.

“Thank ye’,” He ran a hand over his hair and sighed heavily, looking past me at the hearth. “Have ye’ been okay? Alone here?”

I stared at the side of his face as I balled up the cloth to wash later. “I’m managing. And old Alec?”

“Grumpy, Dougal must’ve told him ta’ keep me working. Feel like a kicked dog some days.” He raised his head again, looking over at me. “Colum called me to him yesterday, he wants a decision soon. The watch caught redcoats closer to Leoch than ever. Of course, they didn’t get past, but…”

The word hung in the air.

 _But_ they will come.

I sunk down onto a stool and put my head in my hands. “I’ve been wracking my brain, every spare thought goes into figuring out what could be done. I… I’m lost.” I mumbled the words into my hands. “The only thing I thought of two days ago was your uncle — the one in France.”

Jamie huffed, “I thought of him too, it’s getting away from here now that we’re being treated like bloody prisoners.”

“Now you know how it feels not to be trusted.” I looked up at him, giving him a wry smile. “I’m sure the guards were told to shoot first and see if we survived after.”

Jamie made a face but chuckled, “Yer probably right.”

We looked at each other for a moment, then he glanced down at the key wrapped around his finger. I followed his gaze and then smiled softly. “You’ve given me a lot, but that’s my favorite.”

He smiled, almost to himself. “The ring or by marryin’ ye’?”

I laughed lightly, looking up at the ceiling before standing. “Both.”

Jamie pushed off from the table and caught me by the waist. So long without touching and the movement made my stomach flutter just enough to make me giddy. His hand reached up, cupping my cheek as he smiled at me. I would never get over the feeling of his fingertips on my skin, or ever forget what it was like to have him so close, staring at me like I was the only person in the entire world.

As cliche as it was, it did make the nights worth it, to know he was next to me no matter what the days threw at us.

“I’ve missed ye’,” He dropped his head, tilting it closer as he whispered the words. His nose brushed mine, then pulled back before I could lean in. “Days since our wedding, since being able to truly love ye’… makes me slip up at the stable.”

I swallowed, my eyes caught in his as he smirked.

“Thinking of you, yer flimsy little shift and the way the fur felt as I touched ye’…” He leaned in, lips touching my ear, “ _I want ye’_.”

All the breath in my lungs left my chest in a little puff as his other hand came around to touch my back. Too much had happened since that night, from telling him who I was to the redcoats and his injury, we’d barely kissed — and weren’t alone or awake long enough for more.

Jamie smiled against my skin, kissing the shell of my ear, “ _Uan_?”

“Yes?” My voice was breathy as his hand crept over my hip.

“Dinnae be quiet.” He grabbed me, lifting me up onto the table as he scattered herbs and swept the tome to the floor with a thud. I landed on the wood surface and grabbed onto the edge as he moved between my legs, kissing me hungrily as he leaned up and grabbed at the corset.

The laces weren’t as intricate as my wedding dress, and I was out of it in moments as he pushed the skirts up. One hand moved, touching my thigh and wrapping around the knife that never left it.

When he pulled it away from my skin, he smirked against my lips again. “Planning on stabbing someone, _mo ghràdh_?” The nickname sent a shiver down my spine, it was always laced with love, but with his hand up my dress I couldn’t think straight.

“Only if you don’t behave.” I pulled him closer, kissing him again as I pushed his shirt over his head. His kilt fell and before I knew it he was naked in front of me and I was halfway out of the top layers of my dress.

Jamie stepped back, a small smile on his lips as he looked at me. “Far ta’ many clothes.”

He descended again and my head dropped back as he kissed my neck, sucking on my skin as he pulled the fabric away from me. I heard rips, shifting enough on the table that my chest was finally free and the rest pooled down by my hips. He took each revealed patch of skin as an invitation, dropping his lips lower and lower until he was jerking the fabric away entirely and letting it fall to the stone floor.

The wood was rough against my skin as his hand slid up my body and then back down. His eyes were darker as he pulled back enough to stare at me, then he pulled me forward by my hips, teetering on the edge of the table.

I wrapped a leg around him, dragging my fingers through his hair as I stared up at him.

“This better?”

“Much,” He tilted my head up, kissing me again as he pressed against my thighs, pulling our chests together as his other hand grasped at my hip. I wrapped my other leg around him and his hand dropped between us.

I gasped as he cupped me and Jamie smiled, sending my stomach flipping as he watched me. Grabbing onto his back, my eyes fluttered as he slowly touched me, finding my clit and slowly circling it.

His lips pressed against mine and I lost control. Pulling him against me by the hair, I shifted my hips forward against his hand, gasping against his lips. “If you don’t fuck me right now, Jamie Fraser, I’ll kill you myself.”

He growled and grabbed me by the hips, slamming into me as my head dropped back, crying out. The sensation of his lips on my neck again made my heart stutter as he sucked on my skin. I knew he was adding marks, but I didn’t care as I tugged at his hair, his hips unrelenting against mine as we slammed against each other.

I didn’t think, I just grasped at him, his hands wandering all over me as his head finally lifted. Kissing him hard, I pulled him closer, grabbing at the back of his neck to hold him in place as he started to pant against my lips. I didn’t care as Jamie’s thrusts became more reckless, moving faster as I nipped at his lower lip.

He grabbed at my waist, groaning as he faltered for a moment. “ _Willa_ ,” His moan muffled against my skin as his head dropped.

I held him as he slowed, breathing hard against me. A hand ran up and down my spine as he sucked in a breath. Then he pulled back and stared at me, voice still rough. “Ye’ didn’t…?”

“It’s okay.” I touched his cheek, taking a deep breath, I gave him a small smile. “It’s okay.”

“Like hell,” Jamie muttered, pulling out of me and then dropping down onto one knee.

I stared down at him, my hands dropping from his head as he looked up. The half-smile tilted the edges of his lips as his hands raked up my legs. While looking at me, he turned his head, kissing my left calf and then moving to my right, his touch moving slowly up until I let out a small breath.

He grinned as he sunk down on both knees, just tall enough that he could move his head up higher, kissing my thigh as his fingers slid over me.

I dropped my hands to the rough surface, moaning as he slung one leg over his uninjured shoulder. With the movement, his face was right against me, and he pushed his head in, running his tongue over me as my toes curled. Jamie didn’t hesitate, one hand traveling farther up to press down against my stomach as he moaned against me.

My eyes shut and I leaned back on the table, breathing hard as his tongue moved against me, feeling, testing. His other hand grasped my thigh, pushing my legs open wider as he circled my clit again, then flicked it.

I gasped his name, jerking against him as I dropped lower on the table. Any more and I would be splayed out, but the feeling of his laugh against me made my thigh push against his hand. He forced it back open, then moved his hand to work in tandem with his tongue.

Dropping a hand to his hair, I grasped at his head, pushing it against me as I fully fell back onto the table. Rolling my hips against him, I cried out as he pushed a finger inside me, thrusting it. His hand on my stomach kept solid pressure, holding me in place as he tortured me, giving just enough pleasure to keep me gasping but not enough to make me scream.

I writhed against the table, unable to stop as he moved faster, adding a second finger as he pressed his head against me. I tugged on his curls, crying out as I wrapped my other leg around him. He grunted against me and shifted his wrist up just enough to make my hips jerk. I arched off the table, gasping for him not to stop.

His tongue was relentless and my cheeks felt warm as he thrust his fingers, curling them as he pushed his hand against me. My eyes rolled back into my head as I gasped his name, the volume turning into a shout as I rolled my hips against him and felt a wave of heat rush over me. My legs were shaking by the time the orgasm finished, and I was gasping for air.

When he pulled back, he was breathing nearly as hard as I was. I couldn’t even look up at the ceiling as I tried to catch myself. He pulled back, and I could hear him moving, standing and then his warm hand ghosted over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he touched the side of my neck.

I finally looked up at him, laughing breathlessly as I leaned up on one elbow. He dropped the pearls over my head, his smile warm as he touched them on my chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Jamie smiled at me, “Ye’ alright, lass?”

Pushing myself up all the way, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss as I hummed happily against his lips. We eventually made it away from the table, stumbling to the too-small cot as we fell into it together.

Jamie’s nose bumped against mine as we laid side by side, his hand moving over my side carefully. “Have ye’ been to France?” His voice was soft, lips trailing to kiss my jaw.

I shook my head, leaning into him. “No, I’ve always wanted to go.” It sounded nice, an escapism fantasy where we could stay wrapped up in each other indefinitely. The haze had holes in it, of course, there was no way to stay safe, not in the current times and not with what the world had coming to it.

“I’d ken ye’d enjoy it.” He pulled back and looked at me. “Wine and pretty dresses,” His voice was thick, trilling the sounds as they fell from his tongue. The accent made me shiver as he dropped his head, lips nearing mine. “Fancy lacy things.”

I groaned and pulled him back against me.

It was lazy, one of my legs slung over his hips as he pressed against me in the limited space. His hand cupped the back of my head so I didn’t drop it back against the stone walls. Neither of us lasted very long, too keyed up and too deprived of each other. Now that I had a taste of him again, I couldn’t imagine him pulling away.

When his head dropped against mine again, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest.

“What would life be like?” I whispered, shifting my head to look at him. “If we stayed here?”

He touched my cheek. “Laird, all its duties. I ken I’d be at war with the redcoats, or by Dougal’s side.” Jamie’s brows furrowed, then he swallowed. “Lallybroch isn’t very well kept, Jenny’s probably still there. Only house she’s known, but it’s so near tha’ Watch’s routes...”

I swallowed and pushed his hair back, sucking in a deep breath. “And France?”

Jamie sighed. “If we made it, we’d do our best. Jared would help where he could, give me a job. I’d keep ye’ as safe as I could.” He returned the favor, smoothing out my hair and then giving me a sad smile. “But it’s getting there with safe passage for you, keepin’ us both away from British ships or a man looking for a quick shilling.”

I knew it wasn’t a possibility, but it still made my stomach sink. He looked just as sad as I was and I dropped my head, resting my forehead against his shoulder as I frowned.

“What…” He paused like he was still deep in thought, fingers absent-mindedly running through my hair, untangling tiny strands as he went. “What would life be like… for us in yer time? In the future?”

That felt like even more of a pipe dream compared to Leoch or France. But I desperately wanted to humor him, so I spoke against his skin, kissing his chest gently, right above his heart.

“Well, we’d go back through the stones. I’ve been missing a while, but I don’t think it would matter. I don’t have much family left, just a few extended members that knew I was going out of the country and didn’t expect anything. I guess we could go back into Inverness, how it was when I left it.” I ran my fingers over his neck, then down his back, feeling the scars. “We could be together, get married again. I have money, my parents left me everything, plus what they had from my grandparents.”

“That sounds nice.” He smiled against the side of my temple, kissing my hairline. “We’d marry again, tell me where.”

I grinned against his chest, looking up at him. “There are these beautiful gardens in London —“

“Ay,” Jamie barked as he made a face, spitting the words as he glanced down at me. “Married in England?”

I laughed, touching his cheek. “It’s very pretty.”

He grinned, chuckling as he shook his head back and forth. “Ye’ never cease ta’ amaze me. Run from tha’ British in one life, let ‘em marry us in another.”

I shrugged, curling up against his chest. “Suit yourself — fine, we’d get married in Edinburgh, in a beautiful church, or if the one is still standing, we’ll get married on the same creaky wooden floors.” Smiling at him gently, I pecked the edges of his lips. “Then you can take me to France, to Paris for a real honeymoon.”

He hummed, turning his head to capture my lips with his.

Wrapped up in the blankets with him, I drifted off a little easier, with a little cooler head. Maybe it wasn’t possible, but there was no way to know for certain. And if there was anything, I had time. Time to think as the sun rose on another day and Jamie had to return to the stables — time for me to consider what the stones actually were and if it was truly possible for him to come with me.

The more the days waned, the more I wanted to leave. Leoch no longer felt like a stronghold that welcomed me, it was a jailer in a pretty package, with a signed order to hang at end of sentence.

More stories came from the surrounding homes, townsfolk traveling as far as the small village over just to tell Colum and Dougal of seeing more British activity around. I wasn’t stupid, the days were numbered, but I just couldn’t see the exact countdown.

Murtagh stayed away, I caught glimpses of him in hall, whether eating dinner or during moments where Colum actively appeared as Laird. Colum’s gait was worse every moment I saw him walk to the chair and begin to dole out punishment or solve an argument. Everything was in a new light, down to his faded smile and tired eyes.

Angus and Rupert caught me as I was collecting herbs for another round of anti-inflammatory paste, good for small wounds. As I crouched down on the small path to pick mint, a voice carried across the row in front of me.

“Ay, lass.”

I glanced up, careful not to lift my head as I caught Angus’ smirk. He nodded to the side. I stood and stepped over, bending down in a thicker patch of plants, out of the guard’s lazy eyesight.

Rupert slid up to me, moving in from the side, his large form barely hidden by a bush.

“There ye’ are.” He grinned at me, the look splitting his face. “Thought we’d find ye’ somewhere.” Angus appeared next to him, barely just hair and beard behind leaves.

I looked between them, then glanced back at my guard. “What is it?”

“Message,” Angus piped up, “from Murtagh.”

I paused, picking at a leaf, trying to appear busy. “Not written down, I’m assuming.”

“Ay, can’t be too careful.” Rupert bent in, his voice soft. “They’re keeping him away from Dougal and Colum, can’t be trusted because of his Fraser relations, just as with ye’ and the lad.” He swallowed, hesitating, “Dougal’s spoken to us too.”

I felt wary, glancing between the two of them. How much slack and tension did they give to their friends and alliances? Who would either of them default to if it really came down to Dougal and Jamie? I couldn’t be certain.

“And what has he said?” I finally prompted, plucking another leaf from the plant in front of me.

Angus shifted to a better angle to see him now behind the bush. “Colum’s said he wants ta’ default to Dougal. Jamie needs to make his decision by next hall. Fealty or…”

Both of the men in front of me looked disturbed by the other option. Fealty or Dougal’s wrath again, this time a monastery in France unlikely.

I swallowed, sitting back on my heels. The next hall was barely two days away, an evening event to be seen by everyone who could come. “Thank you, for letting me know.” Nodding, I tried to keep the panic out of my voice. “Was that all?”

“Murtagh is leaving.” Rupert finally whispered, “He’s free to go, but he’s going ta’ see Jamie today, get himself in order.”

My stomach twisted, heart in my throat as I nodded, “Oh.”

Their pitying looks were enough. As they both sank away, back into the underbrush and carefully away from my guard, I rose and felt every step, heavier than the last. The only person Jamie could truly trust, and Murtagh was leaving. I knew I couldn’t blame him, if anything I would have told him to go myself, to save himself and his skin before anything could happen.

“I need to go to the stable.” I turned to the guard suddenly. “Surely you can let me see my husband.”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Can’t ye’ see him tonight?”

“I need to check his wound is healing.” I pressed him, stepping closer. “A bottle of Colum’s finest Rhenish if you let me go.”

That warmed him up considerably. The guard grinned, then shrugged and nodded toward the stable. “If ye’ let anyone see ye’, I’ll deny it and still expect tha’ bottle, lass.”

I didn’t stop to say thank you, turning to run out of the gardens and towards the stable.

When I reached it, old Alec was nowhere to be found and the sun was waning. Jamie’s hair could just be seen past the front of the stable, and I pushed my way past the paddock and toward the wood. The hay crunched under my boots and I watched Jamie’s hand snap to his waist.

“It’s just me.” I stopped short, and his shoulders relaxed.

He turned, stepping enough that I could see Murtagh just past him. With a heavy sigh, I breezed past Jamie and threw my arms around the other man. Murtagh grunted, then hesitantly patted my back, awkwardly pulling away before I was finished.

“Angus and Rupert just told me.” I looked between the two, my voice wavering. “Murtagh…” I swallowed, thinking the unthinkable as I glanced at Jamie. “I need to tell you something.”

Jamie stepped forward, resting his hand on my shoulder as Murtagh looked between us. He nodded, resting a hand at the belt of his kilt, “What is it?”

As the sun sunk lower, I told him everything, from the stones at Craigh na Dun to my version of him finding me and taking me to the cottage. His eyes widened at every detail, the curves of the story as I told him about the future, about the things I had told Jamie of.

“The Jacobites won’t win. Please don’t fight, just go somewhere, be safe.” I swallowed back a lump in my throat as Jamie’s hand tightened on my shoulder, supporting me as much as I was supporting him.

Murtagh let out a breath, blinking hard once, twice, then nodding. “I ken I shouldn’t fight in a losin’ battle.” He swallowed, staring at me, respect written all over his face. “All this, everything ye’ have said, done, and to ken how it all ends up.” He shook his head, looking down at the hay then back up. When he did, he looked over at Jamie. “I’ll protect Jenny with my life, carry on tha’ Fraser name with as much pride as I ken, lad.”

Jamie nodded, reaching out to his uncle as he let go of me. The two men embraced, clapping each other on the shoulders, holding onto each other tightly for a moment then separating.

“I promised yer mother I would take care of ye’, lad.” Murtagh pulled back, holding Jamie by his shoulders. “I tell ye’ the same thing, Jenny will be protected no matter what happens to ye’ or Willa.”

I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten as Murtagh grabbed the small bag he had at his feet. He turned, looking back at us once before taking his horse and jumping up onto it.

“Do what’s right, both of ye’,” He looked down at us, then kicked the horse’s sides.

I reached out for Jamie, grabbing onto his arm as we both watched Murtagh leave, unhindered by the guards and refusing to look back. Another weight fell off my shoulders, the idea that Jamie’s bloodline would die if he did was no longer sitting like a rock in my stomach.

Jamie turned his head to me, then leaned in and pressed his face against my hair. With a shuddering breath, he hugged me tightly and I grasped him back. I had to tell him what else Angus and Rupert said, but for now, it could wait. We both had to finish saying goodbye to our only family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh is such a genuinely lovely character, this chapter hurt.


	13. 13 | Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has run out for Jamie and Willa to make their difficult decision.

Hall loomed over us. Even dinner that evening felt wrong without Murtagh at one of the tables, an empty spot in the back corner where he normally ate and left quickly. This time, the only familiar and friendly faces were Angus and Rupert, too careful to show more than a passing nod in mine and Jamie’s direction.

I excused myself after only a bit of food, stealing back down to the cellar to process. When I lit the hearth, I noticed a bunch of fabric laying on the cot. Stepping over, I picked up a dress, covered in the same tartan pattern as Jamie’s Fraser kilt, accented with deep greens.

“It’s for Hall,” Jamie’s voice startled me and I dropped the dress back to the bed, turning to look at him.

He nodded towards the kilt slung over a chest in the corner. “Last Hall for us both as Clan Fraser.”

I shook my head, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want you to give up your tartan, but I can’t think of a way out of this.”

He pulled the dirtier kilt up before sitting down on a stool and sighing. His eyes looked far off as he silently stared at the hearth. I walked around to touch his shoulders gently, bending down to kiss his head.

“We won’t be able ta’ manage the road, journey to France or Lallybroch either, both will lead us ta’ more redcoats than I ken I could handle, or watchmen who could easily overtake us.” He sounded defeated, “I can take ye’ back to Craigh na Dun.”

“We’ve had this discussion.” I stepped around to crouch in front of him, looking up as I shook my head firmly. “I’m not leaving Scotland without you.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know, may still make ye’ though.”

“You couldn’t _make_ me do anything.” I shot him a look before standing up. The dress on the bed caught my eyes again and I sighed, turning to check the fire and then bending over the wooden table to skim the medical tome. Too many of the parchment pages had been bent and cracked when Jamie sent it scattering to the floor, but I tried to not let myself get distracted as I flipped through Gaelic and English instructions for the one I needed.

“Did you hear that some boy is ill in the village?” I spoke up as I flipped to another page, “Mrs. Fitz told me it’s demons.”

Jamie made a noise behind me. “Ay, may just be.”

I turned and shot him a look over my shoulder. “Honey, it’s not demons.”

His head lifted, raising an eyebrow at me. “ _Honey_?”

I scoffed, turning back to the medical tome. “What, I can’t give you a nickname?”

“ _Honey_?” Jamie repeated, his voice cracking at the end as he dissolved into chuckles. “God, tha’ British should just shoot me if any of tha’ men hear ye’ call me that.”

“You’re about to be called something else if you —“ He cut me off as he moved behind me and covered the book with his hands. I could feel him leaning against my back as I huffed and turned my head slightly.

Jamie grinned at me.

“You’re in a ridiculously good mood considering we have death facing us at every option.” I pushed one of his hands away, flicking it with my fingers and brushing it away as I bent down. Squinting at the scribble, I felt him wrap his arms around my waist.

As he kissed my jaw, I hummed. “What does this say?”

He bent over my shoulder, peering down and then huffing. “Somethin’ about boiling mushrooms and witch hazel.”

I made a face and flipped the page again. “Anyway, what I was saying before you interrupted me —“ I fanned through the pages, trying to find anything on the symptoms that Mrs. Fitz had slipped me earlier. The boy had gone to some monastery, wouldn’t eat, had a fever, and was pale. I could only think of a few things in my limited medical knowledge, but I was currently working off food poisoning.

“Mrs. Fitz told me not to intervene because of the priest.” I finished my thought as Jamie held onto me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

He shrugged and looked down at the book with me. “Best not ta’, I’d rather not testify that yer not a witch.” He paused, then kissed the shell of my ear, “Even though ye’ may just be.”

I turned my head again, staring at him as the edges of his eyes crinkled with his smile.

“Not a witch,” I rolled my eyes. “But I was wondering what you meant, on the road.” Turning around in his arms, I leaned back against the table and looked up at him. “You said that I wasn’t the first person to mention Craigh na Dun?”

Jamie nodded, seemingly unbothered. “Ay, there have been many a story, ye’ heard tha’ bard’s song,” He paused, then looked down at me, eyebrows creased, “Then there was a man, nay older than us both who my mother knew at Lallybroch, tha’ Mackenzies may even remember him. Big fellow, called Alister, I ken. He disappeared just after my mother and da’ married.”

I stared up at him, waiting for a moment before running my tongue over my lips. “So I’m not the first?”

“I ken yer not, there was a very strange woman who lived in town maybe five years ago?” He reached up and pushed my hair back before sucking in a breath. “Don’t remember her name, but tha’ townsfolk trialed her as a witch. I’d prefer tha’ not ta’ happen to you, so please, don’t cause any more trouble.”

My stomach fluttered, another woman who fell through the rocks, lost in time, and unable to find her footing here. I couldn’t even imagine the other scenarios I would have been put into if I hadn’t been found by Murtagh and the MacKenzies — if Jamie hadn’t been willing to marry me to avoid Randall’s wrath on us both.

Leaning back against the table, I blinked, “Well that kind of helps the theory I had.” I turned back around, flipping quickly through the pages of the medical book again. Towards the end when the prior owner had begun to get ill, there were margin notes that made no sense in the context of any of his other notes, in hand-writing that didn’t match the rest.

Pointing at them, I turned to look back at Jamie. “See? These notes are talking about medicine in terms I would use, like —“ I struggled for an example and then turned and grabbed his upper arm, “this is your deltoid,” I ran my hand along the muscle and pushed it against the back of his shoulder, “It bleeds into your trapezius, connecting together with the rest of the muscle in your body and is the reason you have a range of movement. The root for the word is Greek, so unless your prior healer came all the way to Castle Leoch from Greece, I’m not sure why they would know the Greek terms for the muscular system.”

Jamie was lost, he was staring at me like I had three heads, his eyebrows all the way to his hairline. “ _Uan_ , I don’t understand.”

I turned and pointed at the book. “These _notes_ are about Colum’s condition, he told me the previous healer helped his back by massaging, but Colum’s disease is from his parents, they both carried it and it passed down to him.” Looking back at Jamie, I tried to get him to understand, “It’s not named for almost a hundred more years but it’s named here. _Toulouse-Lautrec syndrome_ , no one would know that unless they were from my time, or at least the 19th century. But it’s not in handwriting that’s similar to the rest of the book.”

Finally, he leaned in and narrowed his eyes at it, tilting his head as he read the lines again. “I don’t ken much about who tha’ healer was, he may have been here when I was a lad. He got herbs from the town, probably from tha’ woman who was trialed.”

I nodded slowly. “So she was like me, a time traveler.” I glanced back at the notes, the scrawl tight and pushed together. Suddenly it felt like I was staring at what my future would be, passing notes in the margin of a book no one would look at.

Jamie touched my waist. “What were yer theories? Ye’ mentioned that.”

“I think you can go through Craigh na Dun.” I looked up at him, swallowing. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t know why you wouldn’t be able to. It makes no sense that only certain people can travel through them, especially if there are not only one but multiple stories of people who have both come _through_ to this side and left.” I hesitated, then surged forward, “I was worried it was just women but you mentioned the man your mother knew. Maybe he’s in my time and no one knew.”

His face felt as he touched my cheek, shaking his head. “ _Mo ghràdh,_ now, I don’t want ye’ to get yer hopes up.” His thumb ran over my jaw as he sighed and ran his eyes over my face, flickering over my features. “I have ta’ swear fealty at Hall or I cannae protect ye’.”

“But what if we can leave?” I stared up at him, my stomach twisting. “Jamie, what is there for you here at Leoch?”

He stared down at me, his expression torn. “It’s too late ta’ take us both to tha’ stones.”

“It’s never too late.” I squeezed his hands when his dropped from my face. Wrapping his hands tightly with mine, I inhaled sharply. “But I’ll wait, I’ll do whatever you think is right first. Just don’t rule it out, please.”

Jamie leaned in and kissed my temple. “I won’t.”

That was all I needed to hear. After he fell asleep that night, I slid out of the cot next to him and tiptoed across the stone floor. Carefully, I began my preparations, pulling what I could from the storage of herbs and items that I knew how to use. Building up a small pack, I pushed it next to the chest where the few items I had and the few Jamie had remained during the day if we weren’t wearing or carry them on our persons.

The guard and Mrs. Fitz both told me not to go to the town the next morning, and by the afternoon we received news the boy had died, the priest’s exorcism didn’t work and his family was told he could receive a small burial. Mrs. Fitz was distressed and almost inconsolable. I had to hear from a maid that the boy had been her nephew.

Then it was less than twenty-four hours until hall.

Before the sun even rose the next morning, the pounding of hooves woke me up. MacKenzie clan members rode in from all over the land, to celebrate with Dougal and Colum, but mostly to get drunk on Colum’s wine and cause issues. Jamie kissed me on the cheek before he left to tend to the stables for the morning and I dug through the bag I packed of medicine.

The best case to leave the castle and its kept walls was when everyone was drunk. I just had to get Jamie on my side.

He returned before the afternoon light began to wane. I had already gathered the dress and started to pull it on. It was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Jamie paused one step off from the floor of the cellar, staring at me in the archway.

I looked up and smoothed down the tartan, swallowing. “How is it?”

He blinked, shaking his head as he stared. “Ye’ wear tha’ Fraser colors well, _mo ghràdh_.”

I smiled at him gently as he finished stepping down and crossed the stones to me. Holding me at arm’s length, his eyes ran over the dress before he pulled me a step forward and smiled. “Very well.”

It eased some of the knots in my stomach as I leaned up and pressed my lips against his softly. Jamie stepped closer, hand pressed against the small of my back as he did. Then his hand sunk lower and skimmed over my ass as he mumbled, “Maybe ta’ much fabric.”

I laughed against his lips, shaking my head and pulling back. “You need to get cleaned up and dressed.”

We could both have our way, he could swear fealty for show and we could be gone into the night before any of the guards woke up from their alcohol-induced stupors.

I stepped away as he retrieved the kilt and began to undress from his work clothes. Watching him, I swallowed and glanced over to the small bag, breathing out. “I had an idea.”

He hummed, looking back at me for a moment as he folded the kilt carefully. As he gathered the fabric up, I dropped my voice to barely a whisper.

“You can swear to them tonight and we could ride out before morning.”

Jamie sighed, looking down at the kilt. “And if we were caught running from tha’ clan, then what? All the fealties just sworn would be nulled because I would be dead.”

I blew out a breath, “We wouldn’t get caught.”

Jamie wouldn’t look at me. I watched him intently as he tied the kilt around himself, affixing it to his chest with the broach he wore, shining it with his sleeve. He finally lifted his head, pushing his curls back.

“I know ye’ don’t want to do this, but we cannot run.” He finally stepped forward and stood in front of me, just out of reach. “Ye’ can. I will even help, but I cannae go after I swear ta’ them.”

And he was going to swear to them to save us both from Dougal’s wrath.

Closing my eyes, I hung my head forward, sucking in a harsh breath as my chest felt like it was being squeezed in half. He finally stepped close enough to wrap me in his arms. Kissing my hair, Jamie ran his hand up and down my back.

“I’m sorry, _uan beag_. I am so sorry.”

I clung to him, fisting part of his kilt into my hand as I leaned into his chest. Slowing my breathing back down, I heard the tell-tale movement above us of the kitchen maids running back and forth to set the tables, settle the evening’s meal into place and keep the whiskey and Rhenish flowing.

We were out of time.

Pulling my head back, I looked up at him and nodded. “I guess you’ll swear fealty and we’ll go from there. Whether it’s Lallybroch, France, or Craigh na Dun — I’m not leaving you.”

He smiled, but it was a little forced. “I have something for ye’.” Jamie pulled away and I watched as he reached into his sporran around his waist. When he lifted his hand out, the pearls glimmered off of it. He looked at me softly, “They’re your’s, ye’ should wear them for tonight.”

I smiled back at him gently and nodded, bending my head down. “Put them on me?”

Jamie’s hands were gentle as they lifted the pearls over my head and let them drop around my neck. When I looked up at him, he inhaled sharply and then cupped my face. “Beautiful,” Shaking his head, he smiled and then leaned down, kissing me slowly and pulling us both together so our chests were touching.

I let my eyes close, savoring the moment until the noises above us were too loud to ignore.

Together, we walked up the steps and emerged into the corridor. Jamie didn’t separate from me even when the guard lingered behind us. We entered the hall together, eyes and bodies shifting to look at Jamie Fraser’s new bride and the man of the evening. There were quiet conversations but they faded as we walked toward the front of the room.

Leticia was already there with Hamish, a table still covered with food as Dougal and Colum were both nowhere to be found. She turned and looked at me, her eyes falling to the pearls around my neck. “Colum will be happy ta’ see you here, Jamie.” She looked up, her eyes falling on the man next to me, “And this evening during the oaths.”

Jamie nodded his head toward her. “Ay, I’d ken they’re both thrilled.” His eyes wandered, skimming the crowd as I stood next to him. Something felt wrong, the way the other MacKenzies were drinking, talking to one another, it felt like the room was split.

The doors at the other end of the room opened and Jamie carefully pulled me back half a step to stand in a line as Leticia and Hamish rose. At the other end of the hall, Colum stood, his legs wavering underneath him as he began the long walk from one side of the room to the other. Instead of Dougal behind him, he was next to him, walking side by side.

Nausea churned in my stomach as the two men approached the table at the front. Colum walked around, then took the seat next to Leticia as Dougal sat next to him. Between myself and Dougal, Jamie took his seat. I smoothed out my dress before sitting next to them, ending the table. I could feel the pressure of the knife tied with leather around my thigh as the hall all took their seats again.

Colum raised a glass, clearing his throat before looking out at everyone. “I must thank ye’ all for yer travels, to come to Leoch, to see to me and the MacKenzie clan. It is appreciated.” He raised his glass higher, then shouted, “ _Luceo no uro_!”

The room echoed as everyone raised their glasses and responded with the same phrase. Next to me, Jamie raised his glass slightly and muttered it before tossing the wine back.

The table was painfully quiet, no talk amongst those of us sitting at the front, just Colum and Dougal as men and women approached to speak to them as we ate. I couldn’t hold much on my stomach, and I wished this was a normal night where I could excuse myself early and be back down in the cellar.

The food began to be taken away, wine and more port replacing it. I stood with Jamie as the tables were pushed to the sides of the room. A chair was carried out by a guard and placed at the head of the room and my nausea increased tenfold, the room stifling already, but now it felt like it was a thousand degrees.

Colum stepped forward, bracing a hand on the arm of the chair as he looked out at everyone. “I believe it’s time we speak, as a clan.”

The room fell silent again as he stood, refusing to take the seat. I watched him look to Dougal who moved to stand on the other side of the chair.

“As Laird of Castle Leoch and of Clan MacKenzie, it does bring me reflection, thought, as I see what the redcoats are doing to our lands, our people.” Colum’s voice echoed across the stone walls as he spoke. “And I ken that my time as Laird has been good, prosperous and as peaceful as we could be during this.” He looked back to Dougal. “But this time is over.”

Next to me, Jamie stood a little straighter. His hand moved, then brushed against mine. I grabbed it tightly.

Dougal cleared his throat. “My brother, my laird,” He addressed Colum, “Ye’ have brought this clan all it needed, but now is the time for a laird who can provide and fight.”

Colum nodded sharply, bowing his head before stepping away from the seat. “And it is your’s, Dougal MacKenzie, if tha’ clan will have ye’.”

Jamie’s hand in mine squeezed harshly, enough that I worried he would break it. The hall was silent until a man at the back let out a rallying cry, shouting something in Gaelic and throwing his fist up into the air, pumping it and then beating once on his chest.

Another man joined him as Dougal stepped forward in front of the chair. With a nod to the crowd, he took a seat.

“Ye’ will swear yer fealties tonight to me.” Dougal stated, eyes scanning the crowd. I was glad we were behind him, because I knew he would see through me immediately. He was going to drive the entire clan to their deaths, and no one knew but myself, the man beside me, and Murtagh who was hopefully leagues away.

One of the clan members stepped forward from the crowd. He threw his goblet down to a table and approached the seat. Once he was close enough, he dropped to his knee and bowed his head.

“I pledge myself ta’ ye’, Dougal MacKenzie, as my Laird.”

Another man stepped up to stand behind him, then another, forming a line of fealties that continued until I had to look away.

Jamie leaned in, his voice so soft I could barely hear it even though it was directly in my ear. “I have to go forward.”

“I know.” I swallowed back bile, holding onto his elbow tightly. “I love you.”

He hesitated and then leaned in, kissing my cheek. “I love ye’. I’m keeping my promise to ye’, I’ll always protect ye’.”

I dropped my grip from his arm as he stepped forward to walk past the chair. The crowd’s eyes followed him as Jamie got in the back of the line, proud Fraser colors emblazoned around him, kilt expertly slung over his shoulder, colors bright in the firelight.

Standing alone, I wished for a bottle of Rhenish, to be blinding drunk for a moment so I didn’t have to watch him swear his whole life away. When I looked away for a moment, I caught Angus’ eyes in the corner. Neither he or Rupert had stepped forward yet to join the line and I wondered if they were waiting to see Jamie go through with it.

Until there was a quiet motion behind me. I turned my head, watching the archway behind me as I caught a glimpse of fabric. Taking a step back, I felt my stomach churn, staring back at Jamie, he had six men in front of him, all having to go through the motions of swearing themselves and their families over. I had time.

I pushed back again and then side-stepped into the corridor just behind the hall. Across the archway that was letting light bleed into the small space, I saw Rupert standing, dressed similarly to the rest of the MacKenzie men, but his face was pale.

“What?” A surge of panic went through me as he held tight to the sword at his hip.

“It wouldn’t be right,” His voice barely carried to my ears, “Not ta’ warn ye’.” I could see the conflicting emotions on his face as the light flickered over him. “Colum steppin’ down, Dougal told Angus and I tha’ once Jamie’s fealty is sworn, he won’t come back from tha’ next war.”

I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself, staring at Rupert before sucking in a breath.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, lass,” He nodded towards the hall, “This is what Dougal wanted. Tha’ clan, being Laird, being able ta’ send all we have ta’ the redcoats. Lobsterbacks won’t expect tha’ whole clan effort suddenly against them.”

I stepped forward, then hesitated, I didn’t want to be seen crossing the space between us in the archway. I was already risking so much not being behind Dougal’s chair, not being in sight of Jamie and him in sight of me.

“Can you save him? Protect him?” I pleaded with Rupert, my voice breaking. “Please, Rupert, you and Angus have to know Jamie wouldn’t take the position from him — no one said anything but the fealties they’re swearing now. He’s got what he wants.”

Rupert shook his head. “Ay, the clan may not say it ta’ his face, but there is already talk, from tha’ moment Colum stepped down. Jamie is tha’ option for tha’ younger members, the preference for tha’ ones who ken Dougal’s position on Stuart and the Jacobites.”

I didn’t know what to say, what to think. As I stepped forward to cross the archway to Rupert, to plead again, the wooden doors at the other end of the hall burst open, a guard stumbling through holding onto his side.

Clans members gasped and women were pulled back by their husbands as the guard staggered forward.

I grabbed onto the edge of the archway, standing in it as Jamie raised his head to stare back at the guard.

“Redcoats, at tha’ gate.”

The guard dropped to his knees as Dougal shot up from the chair. Just visible past the doors to the hall, guards were falling and gunshots ricocheted off the stone walls, flashes of red fabric overtaking tartan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Willa is going to have an ulcer by the end of this.


	14. 14 | Craigh na Dun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randall will do anything in his power to seek revenge on Willa and Jamie.

Chaos erupted faster than I could comprehend it. Swords were drawn as Jamie turned his back on the open doors and broke out into a run across the stone floor. Dougal was up and shouting at various clan members as I stepped away from the archway, towards the fray, but behind me, Rupert grabbed at me and pulled me back into the shadows.

I jerked back, steadying myself on his arm as I watched as Colum’s guards pulled Hamish and Leticia away from the hall and towards the other side corridor. Jamie had his hand on his sword as the sound of a musket being fired echoed across the stone walls and I flinched farther into the shadows.

He reached us, taking Rupert in first before turning his attention back to me. I stared at him, throat dry, unsure what to even say. I didn’t have a chance as he grasped my face, cupping my cheeks. “I love you, but ye’ need ta’ go.”

“What?” I choked on the word, grabbing at his arms as Jamie began to pull away. “No, I’m not going to leave you here.”

He was already turning back to Rupert, “She has a satchel in tha’ cellar, can ye’ protect her and get her on a horse?”

Rupert nodded as I reached out and grabbed Jamie’s shoulder. “I’m not leaving you!”

“ _Uan_ ,” he turned, his eyes wide as he glanced back into the hall before taking me in. “I will find ye’, but it’s time for ye’ to go before Randall shows up.” Something broke in his expression as I felt my throat close. Jamie stepped forward, touching my cheek softly one last time. “Go, please.”

I closed my eyes for barely a second, steeling myself with a deep breath before I looked back up at him. “I love you.” I pressed my hand against his over my cheek before turning to Rupert, letting him usher me down the back corridor towards the cellar door.

A small part of me was glad I prepared for this, or just prepared to leave, but another part felt like it was being ripped in half, scattered in pieces as I left Jamie behind. Rupert tugged the door open, nodding down the stairs, “Quickly, lass.”

I took them two at a time, grabbing the bag and slinging it over my shoulder before returning to the corridor. The commotion was moving, ever-changing as shouts and gunshots echoed. I could hear the clangs of swords, metal against metal as Rupert led me around castle corridors I didn’t even know existed. We skirted through the kitchen and out the back where the waste was dumped.

Fires were starting, flames climbing higher as redcoats set the crops and herbs ablaze for no reason other than blind anger. I never fully understood what war smelled like, but smoke and blood permeating the air settled on my lungs heavily.

Rupert pulled out his pistol, a clunky weapon that, somehow, looked effortless as he raised it and walked ahead of me. I reached down and pulled the knife off my thigh, gripping it tightly as we made our way toward the stables. He stopped short in front of me and I felt my stomach drop to the grass under our feet as I stared at the blaze that had overtaken them. Some of the horses were gone, others were laying shot near the paddocks, while others stayed trapped inside.

I started forward, sickened, but I couldn’t _leave_ them there — but Rupert put his arm out, giving me a silent look to wait. Before I could realize what I was watching, a redcoat came away from the blaze, getting back astride his horse to gallop back towards the castle.

Rupert raised the pistol and shot him.

It was so quick I didn’t even register the body now on the grass.

Rupert reached out and grabbed the reins, jerking the steed back towards us and shoving them into my hands. “Go, now.” He was breathing hard, hand wrapping around mine for a brief moment. “Now, lassie.”

I hesitated, only a moment, but long enough for more shouts to arise at the front of the castle. Men appeared around the corner, highlanders and redcoats fighting tooth and nail. Rupert turned, shielding me from them as I scrambled up onto the panicked horse. One of the redcoats fired off a shot at us and Rupert charged forward. I jerked the horse to the side, gasping as I turned to look at the group of men.

I couldn’t recognize any of the highlanders, but that didn’t matter, they were all MacKenzie, family in a way, and my stomach twisted at the thought I was just turning and running from the very people who all had a part in keeping me safe for the last month.

There wasn’t time to think, I pulled the horse to the side again, kicking its sides before galloping up the hill and skirting back around the castle. At the front there were even more men, more bodies scattered around, some still gasping for air. I couldn’t help everyone, but I panicked, scanning the ones fighting outside, hoping for any glimpse of Jamie.

There was a spare pistol on the side of the horse’s saddlebags and I stared at it warily, gunpowder pouch next to it. I didn’t know how to use it, but I would if I had to.

Skittering backward, I felt the horse buck against my grip as a redcoat aimed his own pistol at me. Gripping hard onto the reins and the knife in my other hand, I gasped, the horse rearing up. It took everything in me to stay on, but when it landed back on all four hooves, I jerked my grip towards the forest. I would be no use to anyone if I was dead.

I hunched down, gripping the reins in one hand and the knife in the other. As I headed towards the trees, I looked back at the castle, Leoch ablaze in the night.

I knew I couldn’t do anything inside the fray, but I skidded to a stop with the horse just on the edge of the forest, scanning the men, the redcoats — until I spotted him.

Captain Jonathan Randall was near the front of the castle, still astride his horse as he shouted at men around him to continue setting the small homes and farmland on fire. I clicked my tongue, jerking the horse around and narrowing my eyes. Too many thoughts ran through my head, I could go towards him, I could add to the bandages on the side of his face where my knife had cut him deeply.

Anxiety gripped my heart as I watched him turn on his own horse. His eyes scanned the forest-line, stopping on where I was lingering. Even from the distance, I could see the wicked smile that spread across his face.

We locked eyes as he scrambled for a weapon and I pulled the horse around, begging it silently to listen to me before I sheathed the knife on my thigh and slammed my heels into the back of the horse. Turning sharply into the forest, I could hear hoofbeats on the hill behind me.

With Randall in pursuit, I didn’t dare look back, weaving in and out of the trees as quickly as I could, my only advantage being him behind me and the fact these paths were unmarked, but not dissimilar to the tight routes I noticed while Jamie and I were on our way back to Leoch. None of them had any indication at first glance that they were well-traveled, but on a second look, there were marks in trees, areas that seemed unnaturally _natural_ , with leaves and branches covering worn curves and turns.

He would be drawn away from Leoch, the people who had already been killed couldn’t be saved, but the ones that the redcoats didn’t know how to handle — the experienced fighters, Angus, Rupert, Dougal, even Jamie — they would take care of the officers fresh to war without Randall to guide them.

I ducked, turning the horse sharply into a thicket, feeling branches grab at me from all sides as I pushed forward. I was suddenly aware that there was more than just one man following me and I wondered if I would need to abandon the horse. It would make me slower, and I didn’t know if it was worth the silence to be caught faster.

There were too many options, too many variabilities, so instead, I fumbled with one hand, grabbing at the saddlebags to see if there was anything of importance as I rode. My own bag on my back didn’t have anything to prepare me for this other than some stable provisions and medical supplies and I hoped the redcoat Rupert had killed for this horse had been prepared for the worst.

My hand wrapped around something and I pulled it from the bag, staring down at a vial. Poison.

Well, — I shoved it back into the top of the bag, staring up at the forest ahead of me — if Randall caught me I had a way out. I refused to be taken by him and used in any way. I would die before I let him touch me.

The knots in my stomach tightened as I turned and looked back, bursting through the woods behind me were at least three horses and men astride them. The one closest had to be Randall, he had forgone his powdered wig and instead, his hair was slicked back against his head.

I wrapped the reins tighter around my hand and turned back towards the forest ahead of me, spurring the horse to go faster as I saw a river appear ahead. With my heart in my throat, I kicked the horse’s sides harder and bent down, my chest almost flush with the top of the saddle as I urged the horse to go faster. I hadn’t properly jumped on a horse in almost a decade, but all the threads of training trickled through my mind. Form, holding a grip with my thighs, keeping a steady breath as we neared the embankment.

The horse flew forward, not slowing as it leaped off the bank, clearing most of the river and finding a grip just on the other side of the rocks and dirt. I gripped onto it breathlessly as I jerked the reins to the side, zig-zagging through the trees. It would burn out at this rate, but I heard the hooves behind me lessen as they tried to figure out whether or not it was worth pursuing me.

“Go back!” Randall’s voice carried through the leaves, “She’s mine.”

I scanned the trees near me and found one with a tiny blemish in one of the branches, turning the horse sharply, I pushed it past, eyes flickering over the trunks in the low moonlight through the woods. The pace was slower and the horse was breathing hard under me until I saw a cabin appear ahead. I clicked it forward and threw myself off the horse.

Shoving the door open, I pushed past spider webs and dust, digging around in a small chest near the cot in the corner. Just inside was blankets and what I had hoped for.

The horse outside nervously moved in the grass as another approached the cabin. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, I swallowed and pushed away from the light streaming in through the door.

“Mistress Thompson!” Randall’s voice carried and I could hear him pause to chuckle. “Forgive me, it’s Fraser now.” The sound of boots hitting the ground made me press farther against the wall, swallowing as I skirted around the edges of the cabin walls until I was just inside the door.

He was nearer when he spoke again. “I know you’re in there, your stolen horse is out here — punishable by at least a few shillings. Stealing from the British Empire? I guess your new husband has rubbed off on you.”

I heard him click his pistol and uncorked the bottle of whiskey.

The leaves outside crunched as he stepped forward. My hands were shaking as I forced myself to wait for one more breath. The tip of one of his boots appeared in the doorway and I whipped around, throwing the entire container of whiskey onto him.

It was shocking enough that he fumbled with his pistol and it went off, gunpowder igniting as the shot echoed in the small space. The whiskey went up in flames from a single spark in the air and Randall shouted out, hastily moving to put his chest out as the fire began on his coat.

I pulled the knife from my thigh and shoved him back out into the forest, between him and his pistol as I raised the knife. His eyes were wide as I held it in front of me. As he reached for his sword, I jerked forward, slashing at him and making him stumble back.

Grinning at him, I let out a breath, watching as the back of his coat began to curl from the fire that was slowly eating away the only thing he had that set him apart from another bastard on the road. Randall jerked his coat off, turning his attention away from me long enough that I grabbed my skirts and threw myself back up onto the horse.

Reaching for the pistol on the side of the saddlebags, I raised it.

I was within range, closer than I ever wanted to be, but it didn’t matter. It would just make me a better shot.

“Randall!” I shouted his name, watching in sick satisfaction as he turned just as I pulled the trigger.

The blowback nearly sent me off the horse, but the shot was close enough that I watched his shoulder jerk back as the red coat on his back tinted crimson, sparking against the whiskey. He stared at me in shock and I whirled the horse around, shoulder and arm aching from the pistol.

I took back off into the forest, listening to him either shout after me or in pain. I refused to look back as I pushed the horse forward, shoving the pistol back into the saddlebag. I wasn’t lost, but the trees looked the same as I turned back towards where I hoped Leoch was.

The adrenaline was fading, anxiety weighing on me as I panicked and turned the horse back towards where I hoped the river would be. We trotted through the forest, hyper aware of every sound around me as I sucked in breaths, trying to keep myself from panicking even more.

It was too long on top of the stallion with no river in sight, lost between trees as I turned around every few minutes to make sure I had truly lost Randall back where he was dealing with his coat and shoulder. Gripping the knife in my hand, I rested it on the saddle, staring up at the horizon as I turned the horse up towards a small incline. Just above the trees in the distance I could see the tail-feather rock and pushed us forward.

Slumping forward in the saddle, I pulled my dress closer and then swung the bag around. Inside it, I pulled out the dark green cape and clasped it around my shoulders with one hand. The Scottish air was growing colder and colder as the night grew longer.

Suddenly we broke through the trees and I found myself back on the dirt path, not a soul in sight. Grasping the knife tighter, I looked back and forth and then turned away from the rocks, putting them at my back as I kicked the horse faster, trotting alongside the forest, just off the path, too afraid of losing sight of it if we went back into the woods.

My stomach was twisting in knots, the thought of Jamie left at Leoch, no way to find me and Randall somewhere in the forest charging his way towards me or towards Jamie. One of us would be punished for this, and I was desperate to make it to Jamie first.

Ahead, I saw tartan astride a black horse.

Sitting up straighter, I kicked the sides of the stallion underneath me, sucking in a breath as I pushed forward. As I neared the horse, a sickening feeling pushed over me. The body on top of the horse was slumped over at an angle and the horse was just wandering aimlessly as the highlander body on it’s back stayed partially upright, blood already covering the saddle.

I jerked my horse to a stop, overwhelmed and nauseous as I turned my head and gripped the saddle, throwing up to the side and dry heaving. When I lifted back up, I sucked in a breath and then dismounted. Holding the reins in one hand, I pushed the knife back into the holster on my thigh before approaching the other horse. It skittered backward but let me grab the reins. Carefully I reached up and pulled the highlander down.

When the body fell and I could finally see the face, a whole new wave of bile rose in my throat. The last time I saw Harris he had been with the other men during Randall’s raid on our rent party. The very guard who had ridden next to me for weeks, making sly jokes and keeping me safe was now just a corpse.

I dropped down to my knees, just off the road as I stared at his face. With shaking hands, I lifted one and closed his eyes, then pulled the sword from his stomach, finally letting his body rest. Dropping the sword to the grass, I sat back on my heels and stared out at the rocks all around me, wishing they were Craigh na Dun.

Pushing back up to my feet, I looked up at the other horse and then tied it to mine, petting its neck gently before swinging myself back up onto the redcoat’s horse. Turning them both around, I set off again, moving slower this time as I pulled the cape closer, going blindly in the direction of where I hoped Inverness was.

As the sky began to lighten, I began to recognize the trees, flashes of memories filling my mind of the rental car and the way the mountains sloped next to the road. I kicked the stallion to move faster and let the other horse trot next to us as I looked around. Just off the path, I spotted through the thin trees, a cottage I hadn’t seen in over a month, but one that was undeniably the place where Murtagh had brought me.

I pushed a hand through my hair, turning to look around, trying to spot anything I recognized that would lead me back to Craigh na Dun. Jamie was in the back of my mind as I dismounted again, taking a step with the horses next to me, breathing heavily.

There was a tug in my stomach, and I turned, pulling the horses behind me as I plunged back into the forest. The feeling grew stronger the longer I walked, the further it took me off the path, and I found myself fighting for breath as I hiked past logs and brush, pulling them behind me. I didn’t want to consider it, but the draw was so strong I knew it had to be the stone circle.

I reached the top of a knoll and stopped short, only a few leagues away I could see through the mist, the tops of stones.

A gunshot echoed and I felt a burning sensation as I turned, dropping the horses’ reins. Both of them scattered as I reached down and pressed a hand against my side, too shocked to process the blood seeping past my fingers.

Randall stood only a few feet away, breathing heavily, his shoulder sagging as he held a pistol.

I took a step and staggered slightly, staring across the grass at him as he smiled. His face twisted as he strode forward, and I gasped as the pain finally blossomed taking me down to my knees.

He reached me, towering over me as he held the pistol at his side for one more moment before holstering it.

“Did you think I wouldn’t follow you, Mrs. Fraser? Through the forest, over the river, around the bends? You, _my dear_ ,” there was bite to his words as he grabbed my chin forcefully, making me look up at him, “have been a white stag to me since we first met since I saw your pretty little colonist face cursing at me and refusing to obey.” Randall scoffed, the smile growing wider. “I intend to make you obey, Mrs. Fraser, and then I intend to gloat to your husband before I slit his throat and let him bleed out for the wolves.”

Bile pooled in my mouth and I jerked away from his hand, spitting on his boots as I pressed my hand against my side harder, blinding pain shooting through me. “Go to hell.”

I was already in it, the stones within reach and reduced to my knees in front of the man I had been warned and protected from. The ring on my finger the definitive proof that I would do anything to avoid being on the side of history that won — but inevitably was still the wrong side.

Randall laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Still so feisty, even bleeding out.” He dropped down to one knee in front of me, grabbing my face again. His hands were rough, speckled with dried blood and dirt under his nails. He smelled, like gunpowder, whiskey, and burnt skin. But he leaned in, grabbing me and holding me in place as he smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. “Such a waste of a pretty face.”

I wrapped my other hand around the knife on my thigh, holding it under my skirts and then unsheathing it. Randall glanced down as I gripped it.

He clicked his tongue, then slammed a firm punch into my side.

I cried out, falling over as the knife fell from my grasp. Sobbing, I rolled onto my stomach in the grass, grasping at the side of my dress where blood was more freely pouring from the wound. I couldn’t tell if it was just a graze, but it certainly didn’t feel like it as pain shot up and down my side, radiating across my back.

Randall spat on me, his lip curling. “Stupid,” He reared his foot back, kicking me in the stomach, “miserable,” He pulled his foot back again, then brought it down against me for a second time, “American.”

I wheezed, reaching blindly for the knife. Closing my eyes, I swallowed and felt something in the grass, my hand wrapping around it just before Randall’s boot came down on my wrist, painful. The crack of bones and the feeling of them shattering made my entire body go into shock as I laid in the grass, heaving for breath through sobs.

“Now —“ He bent back down, voice closer, “— scream for me, Mrs. Fraser.”

“Get tha’ fuck away from my wife.” Jamie’s voice cut through the pain as I looked up, watching him hold a pistol to Randall’s head, then pull it back and swing it, whipping him across the back of the skull with it.

Randall staggered forward, catching himself as he grabbed his pistol from his hip and drew it, Jamie tackled him, and the two of them grappled with one another as I pushed up onto my elbows, sucking in harsh breaths. They disappeared over the side of the knoll, rolling into the grass and far enough away in the mist that I couldn’t see them.

I could still hear the shouts, grunts, the way each blow hit them in the morning. There was no shortage of sounds, and one of them cried out in pain. I drug myself forward, my hand pulling away from my side to help as I grabbed the knife in the grass.

Using it to push myself up, I cradled my broken hand against my body, gasping as one of the pistols went off.

Laying in the grass, I looked up, staring as a body rose in the mist, then turned and moved towards me. As it neared, I could make out Jamie’s face, twisted in pain as he dropped down in front of me. He pulled me against his chest, grasping at my face, then holding the back of my head against him as he let out a broken sob, kissing the crown of my head.

“Can ye’ walk? What did he do?”

I gasped, leaning into him. “I can walk. He shot me in the side, my hand’s broken —“ I choked on the words, watching as he pulled back and looked down at my arm against my chest.

Jamie stared at me, then turned his head, looking at the stones. “I just knew — I knew ye’d be here, it was like I had to come.”

I stared up at him, his face smeared with blood and soot from the fires at Leoch, his once clean shirt marred with whomever he had fought through to reach me. But the pearls were still around my neck and the Fraser broach was still pinning his kilt to his chest.

“Let’s get ye’ up.” He leaned down and scooped me up into his arms, exhaling as he adjusted me against his chest, then started towards the stones. They were so much closer than I realized, and as Jamie carried me up past scattered trees and we reached the outside of the circle, he paused.

I wrapped an arm around his neck, breathing hard. “Will you come with me?”

He looked down at me, then nodded slowly. “I’m not leaving ye’, _uan beag_.”

Letting me down, I held onto him as much as he supported my side, holding me up as I walked us to the center of the circle. My hand was shaking as I reached the unbroken one forward and pressed it against the center stone. Jamie mirrored my actions, partially covering my hand with his own as the wind picked up, the morning mist turning to rain as Jamie pressed against me, holding me tightly.

The feeling of the world being ripped away was sudden and harsh enough that I stumbled, the stone and him the only two things steady as time changed around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me some extra time, but I wanted to make sure this chapter was perfect! Thank you, as always, for how much support you have all given this story!


	15. 15 | History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Willa make it through the stones, leaving history behind them.

The feeling of frantic hands startled me awake. The mist and rain were gone, replaced by the morning sun and the metallic smell of blood. My eyes fluttered open to see Jamie hanging over me, his hair long as he touched my cheeks, blood on his fingertips as he gasped.

“Thank God.” He shifted, hands moving to press against my side. My bag was still on my back, useless now as I stared up at him, breathing in sharply as he applied pressure to the wound.

I blinked, forcing my head to clear as I pushed up, buckling slightly under the weight. Looking around at the stones around us, I held my breath, unable to tell if anything had changed other than the weather. Jamie tried to hold me back, but I crawled onto my knees, cradling my battered hand against my chest as I looked past the stones.

In the distance, buildings rose tall, scattered across the horizon, churches, homes, high rises, and man-made bridges visible.

I felt the tears burn in the back of my throat before they overwhelmed me. Behind me, Jamie fumbled to reach me, touching my hair softly as I broke down into sobs at the sight of the world as it was when I left it, not a redcoat or musket in sight.

He pulled me carefully against him, touching my side as he exhaled. “We need — yer side and hand, _uan_ —“

I gasped in a breath, nodding my head as I lifted it again, inhaling sharply. “There’s probably a hospital, it’s just getting there and our clothes.” I looked down at him, reaching out to touch the kilt over his shoulder, “You may pass but I won’t.”

As bad as it would be to show up with a gunshot wound, no ID, and with a man who didn’t know how to live in the twenty-first century, I couldn’t help but feel the relief as it spread over my body. We were _safe_.

Jamie grabbed me suddenly and I sucked in a breath as he pushed me back, crouching in front of me and unsheathing the knife at his waist. A shot of terror went through me — not for us, but for _him_ — there was the soft crunch of grass as I struggled to get myself back up, sucking in a hard breath as a woman’s figure appeared just at the edge of the stones.

She dropped the candle in her hand, the wick burning out on the dew in the grass as she stared at us.

“Mrs. Bairnsly?” I stared at her as she stepped closer, holding her hands up at Jamie. Moving forward, I put my hand on his and lowered the knife, then put my hand back on my side. “Is that —“

“Lass,” She let out a gasp finally, staring between us both. Taking another step forward, Jamie gave her a wary glance, but then must have decided she wasn’t a threat as she dropped down in front of me, taking in my hand and my side. “The stones… ye’ve been gone for over a month now —” Mrs. Bairnsly swallowed, then looked over at Jamie. “Oh, I need to get ye’ both to the inn, can ye’ carry her, lad?”

Jamie blinked, looking back at me and then nodding. “Of course I can.” He grabbed onto me, carefully kneeling down and pulling me back against his chest. I sucked in a breath as he stood up.

Mrs. Bairnsly took us both in and then ushered us past the fallen candle and towards her older model Nissan. The sight of a car after so long made me blink as Jamie stopped and glanced down at me.

“It’s okay, just put me in the back.” I touched his arm as he carefully let me down onto the backseat. Jamie glanced at the vehicle and I motioned for him to sit next to me. He was hesitant, but he joined me in the back finally.

The drive was painfully silent, no conversation to be had between the woman who had kindly let me rent a room in her inn and told me about the stones, and between the man next to me who was half focused on her with a wary touch to his weapons — but also focused on easing the shooting pains on my side, hands fluttering but never knowing where to stop.

She pulled behind the inn and I was grateful the area was still quiet and relatively dark, the morning sun not illuminating everything yet as she opened the door and Jamie helped me out. I stumbled into the inn from the back door to a very startled man reading a morning paper.

“Alister.” Mrs. Bairnsly gasped, looking at myself and Jamie, “She — well, they —“

The man rose, folding the paper and then taking Jamie in. He nodded his head, brows pulling together as he cleared his throat. “What year are ye’ from?”

The name was too familiar for a man I had never seen and Jamie’s grip tightened on my waist, holding me against him. The man’s eyes flickered to me, looking over my hand and then sighing. “We should stop the bleedin’, and reset her hand, looks like a fracture ta’ me.”

“Alister,” Mrs. Bairnsly scolded him, coming back into the room with so much medical equipment I felt a wave of calm cross over me. This wasn’t my little cellar of herbs, this was band-aids, alcohol wipes, splints from the drugstore — things that would help. The man took it all from her and motioned for me to take a seat in the wooden chair he had just vacated.

It took finessing, but I got Jamie to let me go long enough so I could sit. Mrs. Bairnsly fluttered back and forth before finally telling us she was getting food and tea and that she would be right back. With her gone again, it was only left to the man kneeling in front of me and carefully arranging my hand back where the bones needed to set into place.

The pain was near excruciating, coupled with the fact I hadn’t slept since two nights ago, riding all night through the countryside just to make it to the stones. I felt weary and light-headed. Jamie didn’t waver, his hand on the back of my chair as he stood silently.

“1743,” I finally addressed the man in front of me, swallowing. “I ended up in 1743 and that’s where Jamie’s from.”

Alister paused as he wrapped my hand, fingers twitching against gauze, “Ye’ don’t say.” He looked up briefly, then frowned. “Was just thirty years ago I came through.” He cleared his throat, looking back down as he spoke softly. “Was out one day, on tha’ road to bring supplies to a clan I worked for, stumbled on tha’ stones — I had heard tha’ stories of course, but like most, avoided anything ta’ do with the fae. Nasty bunch.” He pulled the gauze taut, then finished bandaging. “Before I knew it, I was here, in an Inverness I’d never ken. Wouldn’t have survived, I suppose, had it not been for my Elaine.”

Mrs. Bairnsly came back in, food laden plates up both her arms and even a kettle balanced. Jamie stepped back slightly as she busied herself with covering the table with it. When she was done, she looked at me and then pushed her hand into the pocket of her skirt. When she pulled it out, my cell phone was in her palm.

I stared up at her, then to my phone, before reaching out and looking down at it.

“So you knew then?” I looked back at her, “That you were sending me to Craigh na Dun where I could disappear?” I wasn’t sure if I was angry, or really how to process. I wrapped my hand around my phone tightly, taking a second as I stared at her. “I was gone for over a _month_. I could have _died_.”

She stared at me, her expression breaking. “I… I don’t have a good excuse, lass. I thought maybe ye’d be happy somewhere else. You were so sad when ye’ checked in, and I didn’t know what the stones did. I only knew what Alister told me.”

I swallowed hard and felt Jamie’s hand touch the back of my neck, grounding me for a moment.

“And I went,” She whispered, “Every day since ye’ disappeared, just to check, pray over ye’. I didn’t mean ye’ any harm, just peace.”

“Alister Lyle,” Jamie finally spoke, his voice rough. “Alister Lyle, ye’ worked at Lallybroch.” I turned my head to look up at him, then looked back at the man in front of us both, he would be so close to Dougal and Colum in age, how hadn’t I made the connection sooner?

Alister nodded, then looked at my side. “Ay, that’d be me, and from yer colors, ye’ must be Ellen’s lad, she had just married that fool Brian.” He had a tiny smile, it lifted at his lips before he moved forward to address the gunshot.

Behind me, Jamie sucked a breath. Before I knew it, he was sinking down into a chair beside me and I watched his shoulders fall, the weight of being alert finally crashing as he rested his hands on his knees. I reached over, grabbing one of his hands and touching it carefully as he stared up at me. “What year is this, _uan_?”

I smiled back at him, “It’s 2019, if my time’s right, it can’t be more than a month or two before Christmas?” I looked back at Mrs. Bairnsly and she nodded.

Jamie swallowed and then lifted a hand to run it over his face and hair. “Well, I ken I know how ye’ felt before.”

I wanted to laugh, but I did know. I knew all too well the feeling of being ripped out of everyone you once knew and being faced with things you never thought you would be. And then Alister prodded at the wound and I let out a gasp and grabbed at Jamie’s hand tighter.

Alister pulled back, clearing his throat. “We’ll need you out of this dress, lass. Luckily for you, I decided ta’ take up medicine after I got here.”

I blew out a breath but nodded. Leaving Jamie to sit at the table, staring at a teacup, Mrs. Bairnsly helped me into an adjacent bathroom to unlace the dress and help me out of it. Not too much of the fabric was damaged, and for a moment I felt grateful that with each piece, I could save them, as a moment of the time spent somewhere else.

Then she was retrieving my bag from a back room, clothes I hadn’t seen in days all still freshly folded how I had left them. I chose a pair of loose shorts and wrapped a towel around my top before returning to the small dining room. Jamie looked up, then did a double-take.

“I’m sorry,” I assured him, taking my seat again as Alister began work on my side, absolutely unfazed. “You’ll get used to the clothes, trust me.”

Jamie blinked, then looked over my bare shoulders and tilted his head, eyeing Alister warily. With a slight set to his jaw, he sighed. “As long as ye’ll be fine.”

“Oh, she will.” Alister said cheerfully, cleaning my side with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, “She’s really just grazed, the worst was the hand, but it looked like the force wasn’t enough to break any bones. I’d give it a few weeks and you’ll be on the mend, lass.” He looked up at me, then glanced over to Jamie. “What happened before ye’ came through?”

I hesitated, looking sideways at Jamie before clearing my throat and softly starting the story, from the top, of what happened in 1743. Barely a few sentences in, Mrs. Bairnsly was taking a seat across from me, a horrified look on her face. When I got to mine and Jamie’s marriage, Jamie reached over and touched my arm, his hands finally off the weapons at his side.

With my side stitched and the story finished, Alister stood to go wash the blood off his hands and Mrs. Bairnsly — Elaine — she insisted we call her that — stepped out for a moment.

I turned to look at Jamie, my voice cracking as I spoke up again. “Are you okay?”

“Are ye’?” He looked back at me, surveying the gauze wrapped hand and my side where the stitches covered the skin just under my natural waist, attempting to piece back together where the bullet had grazed me deeply.

I gave him a tiny smile. “I’ve been through worse.” Swallowed, I reached for the water that Elaine had left, then took a drink, the feeling of cool, fresh water was something I never thought I would miss, but I did. Jamie watched me and then picked up a piece of chicken in front of him, raising an eyebrow then taking a bite. She had brought a lot of different foods out, ranging from fruits to snacks to what looked like leftovers of a prior dinner of fried chicken and all the sides.

He hummed, then looked at me again. “Ye’ look pale, lass.”

I leaned back in the chair, adjusting the towel around myself as I frowned. “I think blood loss is getting to me.” With a half-hearted laugh, I looked over at him, taking in the blood-stained shirt and the way his eyes creased at the corners from concern. “But we’re alive, and I’m so happy —“ I stopped myself, my throat feeling tight before I cleared it and reached up to wipe at my eyes, trying again. “I’m so happy we’re okay.”

He leaned out of his chair and pulled me closer, gently touching the back of my head and running his hand over my hair. “We’re okay, _uan_. We’re safe.”

Alister and Elaine returned and insisted we take the food up to the room. The inn had been empty for the most part since I left, and she had the same room for us that I had stayed in before. Jamie helped me up the stairs, supporting most of the weight as we moved up the narrow staircase and down the short hall to the room that faced out on the outskirts of town.

Inside my suitcase was returned to a small table near the bathroom and Jamie looked down at the unfamiliar clothes before helping me take a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Now,” Alister warned, looking between us, “come get me or the misses if there is any bleedin’ or pain.” He sat a bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand. “Take two every six hours or ye’ hand will kill ye’. Clean off the rest of that dirt, and we’ll see ye’ both tomorrow morning.”

Elaine gave me one last small smile before Jamie was pushing the door closed.

The inn was silent, the room warm, and the smell of the heating system was familiar, a musty kind of warmth that reminded me of home. I looked up at Jamie from the bed and then gave him a watery smile.

“Well, welcome to the future.”

He exhaled with a slight chuckle, then moved to take his sporran off, laying his sword and knife to the side, then his pistol down on a table. I watched as he walked around, staring out the window for a few minutes, then taking in the furniture, dated by my standards, but so different than the cots, hay-filled mattresses, and handmade chairs we had left. Then he stood in front of the small TV in the corner and stared at himself in the reflection. Reaching up, he touched the stubble on the edges of his jaw and then turned to look at me over his shoulder.

“I ken I could like it, if yer with me.”

I let out a breath and swallowed, pushing up from the bed and smiling. “Yes, you don’t have to worry, you’re stuck with me, Jamie.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, _mo ghràdh_.” He bent down and kissed the crown of my head. Holding me for a moment, we separated only so I could show him the bathroom, turning on the shower and bath with one hand as he helped me out of the shorts and into the water. Jamie stared at me standing under the plumbing for a moment then reached up and undid his broach.

I couldn’t help the little laugh as he jumped in with me, turning around in circles as he stared up at the showerhead.

I had been waiting to scrub him within an inch of his life since Brockton and seeing him clean for our wedding.

Cautious about the stitches and my hand, though, I stayed out of the spray, letting him take up the bulk of the front of the tub, standing in it and instead focusing on scrubbing my skin near raw with what soap was inside. He followed suit, then stepped partially to the side, carefully touching the back of my head and tilting it back to help me rinse the soap out of my hair.

When we were done, he jumped out first and dug around, finding towels. Slinging one around his hips, I laughed as he wrapped me up in the other one, kissing my cheeks, then my head, and landing on the tip of my nose as he breathed out. “I wasn’t sure I would find ye’, I just kept thinkin’ I had to find tha’ stones, that ye’ would be there.”

I wrapped my good arm around him, careful not to pull at my side. He smelled nice, but it had dulled the hint of smoke and whiskey that I had become so used to. “Randall is dead, I would have been if you hadn’t shown up in time.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat, then lifted me out of the tub. “I wouldn’t let tha’ happen.” I held onto him with a little squeak, bouncing on the side of the bed when he finally let me down.

Yawning, I smiled up at him after a moment, turning to tug the blankets down. “At least we’re safe here. I’m still… trying to process that he’s the same Alister your mother knew.”

Jamie rubbed his jaw again, glancing at the door and then frowning. “It has ta’ be, I ken another Lyle, married one of the daughters of a man I soldiered with.”

“Small world,” I stood again, throwing the pillows down as I finally threw the towel away, sinking into the bed and letting out a deep breath. “Can you get the blinds?”

He turned around in a circle again, then finally looked over at the window, twisting on the wand hanging down to get them to close and then turning to look at me triumphantly. “I ken I’ll adjust here better than ye’ did.”

“Okay,” I gave him a tired smile, laughing as I patted the bed next to me. “If you’re done, I’d really like my husband.”

It barely took him a minute to drop his towel and to fall into the bed beside me. It wasn’t furs or a bustling bar underneath us, but the moment was still the same — his warm arms and the feeling of pressing my face against his chest as his hands touched my shoulders gently, carefully cradling me against him.

I fell asleep faster than I had in a month, wrapped in warm blankets with the sound of Jamie breathing and the feeling of his hand running over my damp hair. I don’t think either of us stirred until the light was forcing itself through the blinds from hours before, a day before really, only then did it feel right to finally move, a little less exhausted, but sore and still settling into the idea that I was back in the right time.

When I pushed up in the bed, I looked down at him, his face relaxed and his mouth slightly open as he breathed slowly. The weapons he had were across the room, save for a knife. The hilt of that was poking out from underneath his pillow — progress, but I didn’t expect anything less.

I leaned down again and kissed his chest softly before sliding out of the bed and making my way to the bathroom. Once the old light was on, I could take a full inventory of the damages to myself. This mirror was a lot clearer than any I had looked into prior, and it showed every mark on my skin, from the healed divot on my arm to the stitched and bandaged wound on my side. Even my cheeks looked different, but there was more color in my skin than I imagined would have been in it after we traveled through the stones.

My stomach grumbled and from the other room, I heard movement.

Poking my head out, I watched as Jamie looked around and then spotted me. He let out a breath and then swallowed, releasing the knife from his hand.

I moved back over to the bed quickly, kneeling down on it next to him and touching his cheek. “I’m sorry,” whispering, I kissed his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was just in the bathroom.”

He touched my back, then leaned in and pressed his head against my shoulder. “Just don’t like waking up without ye’ next to me.”

I touched his hair gently, holding him against my chest as he had for me last night. Neither of us moved until both our stomachs were making growling noises that we couldn’t ignore. Only then did I get back up and pull on clothes from my suitcase, stepping out into the hall onto to stop short at a tiny pile of men’s clothes sitting in the floor.

Picking them up, I flipped the note around on top of them. Elaine’s handwriting was tiny and neat, spares of Alister’s until Jamie could adjust and we could shop for ourselves. Grateful didn’t even begin to cover the feelings I had towards the couple downstairs.

Seeing Jamie dressed in a plaid button-up and tan trousers made my chest flutter a little. He tugged at the pants, glancing over at me as he adjusted the collar, fiddling with the buttons. I smiled at him gently and stepped over, reaching up to fix the back of the shirt collar and smooth it out over his chest.

“You look handsome.”

He exhaled, then looked down at me. I had wrangled on a pair of trousers not too dissimilar to the ones lost in 1743, and pulled on a looser sweater overtop of them, my hair _finally_ off my neck with a scrunchie.

“Better than my kilt?”

“Oh no,” I leaned up and kissed the edge of his lips, whispering, “Never better than your kilt.”

He grinned, turning his head to kiss me gently as he pulled me closer, touching the sweater softly and humming. “I like this, very soft, like my _uan beag_.”

We eventually made our way downstairs after I convinced him to put on the faded brown boots Alister left with the clothes — but to also _leave_ the knives, sword, and pistol. The last thing I wanted was for him to draw a weapon on someone now. I carefully left the string of Scottish pearls with his weapons, laying them next to his pistol. They were more precious to me than anything else I had brought back. When we stepped into the dining room, both Elaine and Alister were sitting drinking coffee. Elaine perked up immediately, smiling at me.

“Oh good, we have quite a bit to tell you both.”

I sat down warily, holding Jamie’s hand under the table.

Alister cleared his throat, looking at the two of us as Elaine poured us both some coffee. I took a welcoming sip, watching the older man for a moment as he pulled out a few pieces of paper. When he slid them across the table, I looked down at them.

“I ken ye’ understand now that the stones do this occasionally, take and bring people. Well, Craigh na Dun isn’t the only set of them.”

I was barely processing his words as I skimmed the page, it was mostly information, printed out links on a piece of paper, but the content was all about Craigh na Dun, then lines about Jamaica, stones found in America, and finally details about Ley lines and a few notes on how the stones may work.

When I looked up, Alister’s eyes were on me. “There are some of us who know of each other, it’s up to ye’ both if you’d like to be a part. A lot of Ley activity happens around here, one near Loch Errochty, and some other places.” He cleared his throat. “When I came, I didn’t know a soul, couldn’t tell a Beatle from a bug, and was certainly not equipped ta’ deal with this.”

I laid my bandaged hand over the pages, then nodded. “Thank you, for telling us.” Looking over at Jamie, I watched as his eyes skimmed the pages, suddenly reminded that though he had spent quite a few years at war, he had been to University, he was just as blind-sighted by this as I was.

Jamie raised his head and looked at Alister, “Lallybroch, is it… Does it still stand?”

Alister took a sip of his coffee, “Ay, parts.”

Jamie looked back at me, written all over his face were the words he didn’t even have to say. I squeezed his hand under the table and nodded, then looked back to Elaine and Alister.

“I’m sorry, I need to wrap my head around the logistics of this for a moment.” Clearing my throat, I held my coffee as I tried to think, running over the things we would need, what I could have access to in a moment — money and inheritance wasn’t a problem, but Jamie didn’t _exist_.

Elaine gave me a small smile. “We’re here for anything, maybe we should go over the papers and what can be done for them in Edinburgh, don’t you think, dear?”

Alister nodded, smiling, “Ay, I have a pretty good passport from there.”

I exhaled, laughing softly as I downed the rest of my coffee. “That would be great, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They made it! And I'm excited to finally tackle the plot that I've been waiting to tie into since the beginning! One more chapter left, I cannot express how grateful I am to every single person who's clicked on this story. Thank you so, so very much! <3
> 
> Also: If anyone's curious, this is the Sam Heughan photoshoot I went off of for Jamie's modern look. My God, he's hot.  
> Image Desc: Sam Heughan with long hair (akin to Jamie's in the first season) models for a Barbour photoshoot in 2017.  
> [Click here for Modern!Jamie.](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/VblYO6JzV8tAADyeOal5Fsvx9MsFZHJwx21nZDe59JsDqHw_mxdQsEmsWIeYnl1GcyZbvW7ukkPNzXb13ErSh4pTS65m5qcB-V5joqXNEcnFvmS9EKFh6JAB08iTIOuMa16D4CkDkwXoopyDdb1kalacQevP-w5jGXALwQUf8KinkW1-GbLwh9mIgfM)


	16. 16 | Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Frasers finally discover what they left in the past, and what the future holds for them.

It took over a week of staying inside the inn non-stop to heal my hand enough for me to feel comfortable leaving. It also took just as long to receive word from another traveler in Edinburgh that Alister and Elaine knew personally. He sent a small package overnight with a driver’s license, passport, and every paper Jamie would need.

Seeing _James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser_ printed in black ink, with a birthday so near to my own, but in reality, was so far off, was strange. I stared down at the birth certificate too many times, aware that all I owned was either in storage or at my small apartment back in Georgia. The weight of reality was overwhelming at times — the texts to what family was left, a few cousins, my only aunt and uncle, to assure them all I was still on vacation — but Inverness was quiet, a reprieve from it all that I welcomed with open arms.

I wondered though if Jamie and I could ever _truly_ live a quiet life like Elaine and Alister had found themselves.

During the process, I had discovered more information than I ever thought to look into, how the census records began in the late 1830s, almost a hundred years after anyone at Leoch would have had one, not to mention, there were threads now, that I could begin to pull at and see what happened to the history Jamie and I left behind.

All things considered, he was doing well. Out of everything, he seemed to adjust quickly to the finer amenities like plumbing, take out, and television — I was still trying to get him to understand that he didn’t need to take my phone and type _anything_ into the search bar he had a question about. It was exposing unlimited information to, someone — I quickly learned — wanted to know it all.

But he so desperately wanted to go to Leoch, to see what happened to Lallybroch over the years. I had refrained from looking it up, too worried to know the truth about the people we left behind. Could I have prevented it? If we went back through the stones could I bring Murtagh to Craigh na Dun?

I didn’t want to think about the logistics of it, so instead I let Alister and Jamie talk quietly over now-old documents that Alister had collected through the years. He knew much of what he could find about the MacKenzies after the raid on Leoch.

“Randall never had children.” Jamie looked up from a book one evening, sitting in the chair in our temporary room. His sleeves were rolled up, a plain white shirt and slacks because — “If I’m bein’ forced ta’ pants, these are better.”

I leaned down behind him and kissed his head, looking at the book over his shoulder. It looked self-published, and Jamie stuck a finger between the pages and flipped the cover close so I could read it. A local look into the history of Inverness and the surrounding areas.

“I guess we did one thing right.” I muttered, pulling back and touching his shoulder softly. “It makes sense he would be a footnote in history somewhere.” I gave him a tiny smile, walking around to sit on the footstool in front of him. “I wonder if we were relevant enough?”

Jamie smiled up at me, flicking the book back open. “I ken Colum wrote about ye’, maybe no one found his journals.”

I remembered the books distinctly, all pristinely dated, organized on shelves, with the birds in his office. A pang of hurt echoed in my chest, all those notes, lost or found by someone who didn’t know the true impact of a Laird writing about his inevitable downfall from his clan.

“We’ll have to see.” I looked back up at him, flexing my fingers gently in the wrap. “Maybe I can drive soon. I don’t quite trust you yet.”

“Don’t know why they got rid of horses.” He muttered the words into the book he was reading, glancing up at me. “Perfectly fine animals.”

I leaned forward and patted his knee. “Things change.”

It was offseason, even with the holidays quickly approaching and the wind cutting me to the bone every time I stepped outside, Elaine and Alister insisted we stay until we could travel. I couldn’t exactly bring myself to trust Jamie on a plane, but I had things to figure out in the states.

As the end of October rolled into November, my hand began to feel better, enough that I slipped down to breakfast early, catching Alister with his morning paper. He wordlessly handed over the keys to his car and told me to return when we were finished.

When I got back upstairs, Jamie was already up, holding a shirt in his hand. I held the keys loosely in my hand as I smiled at him. “We’ll have to go slow, but I think it’s time we see what happened.”

He had his shirt on in moments, swooping in to kiss me, holding onto my shoulders gently before ushering me downstairs. The roads were tight, curves in light snowfall already out of my element, and I did the best I could, following the general directions of my phone’s GPS and Jamie in the passenger seat, staring out at the world that had changed.

We reached Leoch first, before I could even comprehend what I was looking at, we were on the castle grounds. Parking on the hill, I was a step behind Jamie as he got out of the car and stared up at the shell of the castle we had seen standing tall, but burning, weeks ago. He bent down and brushed away snow, grass overgrown on what was once an impressive pathway that led straight inside. Now the rocks had fallen, leaving nothing but a few piles where archways used to be.

I touched his arm, then wrapped my hand around his as he started forward into the wreckage. Every corridor felt like it was the same, frigid wind blowing through holes in the stones as we reached the hall. Nothing of its former glory was left, ash marks on the stone where Dougal’s chair would have been. I swallowed back bile in my throat, staring at a gaping hole where there once was a hallway, where Rupert held me away from the fray.

Walking forward, I pressed my hands against the stone, following the pathway to the top of the steps to the cellar. I could hear Jamie behind me as I breathed out, walking down them and touching the wooden door. It looked like it hadn’t been moved in centuries and even with a firm shove, it didn’t give.

“Let me,” Jamie carefully moved me to the side, then sucked in a breath and threw his whole weight against it. The wood cracked, echoing as it swung open and he stumbled in a step. The stairs were untouched, dusty, but not taken by the elements because of its position under the castle.

I half-ran down the steps, the table laden with yellowed herbs, a cot in the corner eaten away by small animals. With a heavy heart, I touched the tome on the table, the paper flimsy but familiar. Just there were notes in small writing, ink still there, proof that my hands had touched it centuries ago.

I took a step back, exhaling hard as Jamie touched my hip and held me in place. Turning to look up at him, I choked on my words. “It’s all still here.”

He looked around, nodding his head. “I wondered if it would be raided, not many care about a little healer’s room.”

I folded the tome closed carefully, pulling it out of the dust and supporting it with my arms, careful of my hand as I held it to my chest. “We’re taking it home.”

He smiled down at me, nodding softly. “Anything ye’ want, _uan_. I dinnae think anyone is here to say no.”

“Good,” I swallowed, holding it a little tighter as I cast a look over to the wooden cabinets full of dusty bottles. We left the cellar together, moth-eaten blankets and dried herbs all that was left after Jamie picked up the old chest that still held a spare dress, green MacKenzie tartan, well-worn inside of it. He left it at the base of the stairs as we made the climb to the tower.

The door to Colum’s study was ajar and Jamie entered first, stopping short to look at the fallen stone, wind whistling through the open room, half the floor gone.

I stopped in the doorway, my stomach flipping. “Be careful.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, grinning. “I’m fine.” Jamie walked around the edges he could reach, picking up stray papers and books that scattered the floor. When he reached me again he had somewhere around ten in his hands, some of the covers and dates singed off, but others just damaged by the elements.

The car trunk dipped under the weight of the books and chest, and I got back into the driver’s seat and turned the heat all the way up, the tip of my nose frozen as I turned to look at Jamie in the passenger side.

He stared back at me and then looked down at his hands, dirty from the castle. “I need ye’ to know something.”

I hesitated, then reached over and wrapped my hands around his. “What?”

“I asked Murtagh to do something for us.” Jamie looked up, taking a deep breath as his voice broke slightly. “I knew we would end up away from Leoch, in 1743 or not.” He glanced away, looking out the windows. “If Lallybroch is still there, or I ken even if it’s not, I wanted ye’ to be cared for. I had Alister look into Jenny’s family, her son died and tha’ Fraser fortune was never found.”

Staring at him, I gripped his hands a little tighter. “That’s why you’ve wanted to go back?”

He shrugged, giving me a half-smile. “I ken the shillings left will keep us good and happy, don’t ye’ think?”

I didn’t just think, I knew.

The drive to Lallybroch was quieter, the day grew longer and the snow a little thicker, but Jamie told me to stop just before a drive that looked still fairly clear. I turned up it, staring at an archway as I pulled the car through and stopped in front of a tall, three-story manor.

I was the first one to get out of the car this time, staring up at the white bricked manor in awe. Save for some broken windows, clearly installed later in the years, the house was still standing.

Jamie didn’t slow, he strode towards the front door and pushed it open like he still owned the place.

I followed him quickly, locking the car behind me as I held onto the doorframe, staring inside the house, dusty and broken down, it looked like the only living tenants that had roamed the halls had been mice and creatures for decades, but it didn’t stop Jamie as he walked past doorways, then reached a room where the door was closed.

He touched the forged metal handle, then pushed his shoulder into it, the door giving much like the one had at Leoch. Inside it looked barren, but it didn’t phase him as he walked past darkened and half-termite ridden pieces of wooden furniture. I followed him wordlessly, my heart in my throat as he reached another door and threw his weight into it again. This one took three tries before he pried it open, letting out a grunt at the last slam of his body into it.

The room just past was almost pitch black and I fumbled to get my phone out, shining the flashlight into it.

Covered in thread-bear sheets and cloth, furniture, chests, and all a manner of items were scattered around. Jamie whipped a sheet off one, then bent down, staring at the clasp and cursing. I watched in half-horror, half-amazement as he pulled his knife from his boot and began to pry it open.

“Have you had that the _whole_ time?”

“Ay,” He grunted, then paused at my silence and looked back at me. The grin he gave me was ridiculous. “Might be a lobster back.”

“Oh my god,” I let out a breath, crouching next to him and holding the light up as the lock finally popped open. Inside the chest was enough silver pieces of jewelry and coin to make the British museum keel over. At the top were multiple brooches with stags, engraved with French.

“ _Je suis prest_ ,” Jamie whispered, picking one up, a smile gracing his features, “Murtagh ye’ bastard.”

With every chest and every piece of cloth torn away there was more than I could comprehend. There was a painting of Jamie, standing with an older boy, both of their faces strong even in childhood, then another of Jenny with birds sitting all around her. When Jamie saw that one, his face twisted as he wiped at his eyes.

We didn’t have even remotely enough space to clear the room and pack it into Alister’s little car, but what we could take, we did. Which included the original deed, wrapped carefully in a leather tube. The paper was clearly old, but impeccably kept, as was the other pieces of paper that fluttered out when Jamie pulled the deed out inside the car.

Letters and wills landed in his lap, careful writing, very tight and small to fit everything on the page, in Gaelic so I couldn’t even read from the side. I could only watch as his face twisted painfully, tears filling his eyes again as he stared down at the words and looked away multiple times to breathe.

When it was clear he was done, I sat in silence until he reached over and touched my hand. Wrapping his fingers around mine, he gave me a tight smile. “Jenny wishes she could have met ye’. Murtagh told her just before she passed, Murtagh did what he could ta’ keep Lallybroch safe, but it’s here in tha’ will that it’s to go to us.” He swallowed, looking down to read the words, “If any ken should emerge years later, Lallybroch shall return forthright ta’ the next Fraser.”

I leaned over the center console and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly as he wrapped an arm around me and pressed his face into my neck.

We spent the night in a small town called Fodderty because it was the closest one on the map that was a safe place to stay. The next morning the sun was high in the sky, reflecting off the snow during our trip back to Inverness.

It took a phone call with a friend of Alister and Elaine’s that understood the situation, then another with a friend of a friend before it eventually became clear that Lallybroch _could_ become ours, the deed needed to be redrafted, but because the manor had sat empty for so long and the current side of the Fraser line, had no bearing to Brian and Ellen Fraser, it rightly defaulted to Jamie. I wasn’t sure how the association worked that Alister knew, but I was certain that I would forever be indebted to them for making the present a possible future for Jamie and I.

It was inhabitable at first, but that didn’t stop Jamie from carrying me across the dusty threshold and kissing me against a wall until I was breathless. Or spending Christmas in the only room that was solid, which happened to be a back living area with peeling wallpaper and dust. It still felt like home — I imagined anywhere would with him.

I took a trip back to Georgia alone just after the new year passed, leaving Jamie — and what felt like my heart — in Scotland as I settled the rest of my personal affairs.

I was too excited to board the train from Edinburgh to Inverness. Most of what I wanted to keep was with me, two suitcases taking up all my legroom, while the last few items were being shipped. Once in Inverness, I wrestled both bags off the train and onto the platform, making my way through the station doors and stopping short.

It had only been a month, but I couldn’t breathe at the sight of him.

Jamie was leaning against a car, arms crossed as he stared at the doors. The moment he saw me, he jumped forward. I left my bags at the top of the few steps and threw myself forward, meeting him in the space between as I leaped into his arms.

He wrapped me up, the overwhelming smell of whiskey and warmth engulfing me as I squeezed him tightly. Fumbled phone calls and texts like letters were nothing compared to the feeling of seeing him again.

Pulling back, I stared up at him, unable to keep the wide smile off my face as he cupped my cheeks and kissed me. I laughed through the kiss, grabbing onto him, his hair a few inches shorter, but the feeling of winding my fingers into it just the same.

He breathed out against my lips, his voice low. “Missed ye’, _mo ghràdh._ ”

I almost couldn’t keep my hands to myself on the drive back.

The roads were winding and darkening with each curve, and I couldn’t help but smile over at Jamie, reaching over to touch his leg. I had to admit, he picked up on things quickly, including driving while I was gone.

When he glanced over at me, the smile lit up his eyes.

I didn’t realize just quite how much I had missed Scotland until we were pulling up the pathway to Lallybroch and I saw the stone archway, half-restored, standing tall at the top of the road. I stared at it, turning my head to look at the repairs before he pulled the car through. When I turned back around, I felt my heart stop for a moment at the sight of the restored white-washed stone, the manor-house was almost shining in the golden light of dusk.

Pushing my way out of the car, I stood in the rock drive, staring up at the house with a wide smile before turning to look at Jamie. He grinned back at me and stepped over, wrapping his arms around me from behind. Kissing my head, he squeezed me once, then kissed my ear.

“Look at tha’ front door.”

It wasn’t new, but it didn’t have holes and splintered wood anymore, instead it was a dark and deep brown color with metal accents. I let out a breath and turned my head as I covered his hands with mine. “It’s beautiful. And we live here?”

“Ay,” He couldn’t seem to keep the grin off his face as he pushed me forward a little. “Go see, _uan_.”

I grinned back at him before jumping up the couple steps and pushing the front door open. The hallway inside cut through the house halfway, accommodating rooms to each side that were still covered in tarps and dust cloths as we worked on getting Lallybroch back to its former glory. It helped, of course, that Jamie _knew_ what its former glory was. And I refused to restore it to any less of what he remembered.

Trailing past tarps and restored wood, I reached the room where we had stepped through and found everything left to us. It had been one of the safer rooms, the deeper into the manor you moved, the fewer things felt like they had been destroyed with time. It was more as if they had been preserved from it.

Peeking through the threshold, I looked up at the lighting and electricity we were having installed, a simple brass light already hanging, illuminating the deep wooden paneled walls.

Walking through it, I knew I was nearing the downstairs parlor and, just past it, the downstairs bedroom, which put any modern master to shame. The largest room, save for the kitchen that took up a good chunk of the house on the other side, I pushed the door open, a fresh coat of sealant on it to protect it against more wear.

A lot had been done, but not as much as I thought would be, having been gone for a month. When the door swung open to the bedroom I understood why the rest of the house seemed a little neglected.

Against the far wall was a large bed, four-poster, in the same deep wood that ran throughout the manor. The walls had been partially restored, jewel-toned floral wallpaper covering the upper half, while the bottom was meticulously being covered in wainscoting that matched. I stopped short, turning around among the tarps and ladders before my eyes landed on Jamie in the doorway.

He smiled at me, softer this time, “Thought ye’ may like a real bed.”

I exhaled, speechless before stepping towards him. He had the same thought as me as he pushed up from the doorway and stood in front of me, just inside the room. Jamie’s hands dropped to my hips, touching the waist of my trousers before pulling me half a step forward.

I looked up at him, smiling softly as his hand snaked down under my coat and past my sweater to press against my hot skin. He let out a little hiss, his lips twitching up back into a smirk as he leaned in and whispered between us. “Did I say how much I missed ye’?” His hand splayed across my skin as his other moved up and touched the buttons of my coat, as he leaned in, I forgot how to breathe for a moment. “How is it…” He trailed off, leaning in and breathing against my jaw as his lips moved, “I still want ye’? Maybe even more than before.”

The words were an echo of hundreds of years past, a warm, heady room with a crackling fire in the background and a bed of furs.

I pulled him down by his hair and felt his lips against mine finally. The kiss was hard as Jamie popped the front of my coat open and pushed it off my shoulders. It dropped to the floor, something for us to stumble over as I moved backward and deeper into the room. His touch moved to my sweater next, grabbing it at the end and then pulling it up over my head.

Taking a step back, I reached behind myself and fumbled with my own bra strap as Jamie watched. With a snide smile, he ran his eyes over me, half-dressed in front of him. “Difficult, _uan_?”

I finally got the hooks undone and held it by the strap in front of him, grinning back, “Not at all, Mr. Fraser.”

His eyes flickered down, then back up, and I watched his nostrils flare as he exhaled and pushed his own coat off. I took another step back, grinning even wider as I kicked my boots off and reached for the button on my pants. Jamie crossed the space between us in seconds, wrapping his hand gently, carefully, around my wrist. After he moved it, his hands grabbed my hips, pulling the trousers down and leaning in to kiss me again.

Reaching up, I pushed his sweater off, the cream fabric soft and tightly woven as it pushed his hair back. I pulled him a step closer and kissed him harder again, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the mattress. Pulling back to breathe, I looked up at him and then fell backward.

Jamie stood in front of me, his eyes running over me, drinking me in. I would never get tired of the expression on his face and the way he swiped his thumb over his lips, before crawling over top of me.

Tangling my fingers into his curls, I rolled my hips up to meet his, one hand running down over the rough scars along his back. He pressed against me as he pushed his slacks down, thin underwear the only thing keeping us apart.

His hand dropped between us and cupped me as I dropped my head back and moaned, my hand curving over his ass. Jamie leaned in and kissed my jaw, then lowered his head, moving his body down until he was kissing my stomach and tugging my underwear down my legs. His hands crept back up, running fingers over my thighs before he buried his head between my legs and ran his tongue over me.

I grabbed onto the twisted blankets, gasping out as Jamie pressed against me, teasing me with his tongue. Wrapping one of my legs around his shoulders, I breathed out as he pulled back and then slid a finger against my clit, rubbing it once as I rolled my hips forward.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

He chuckled, moving up to kiss me passionately, cupping my face with his other hand as I pushed his underwear down. Every inch of me was touching him as he grasped my hip with his other hand and pressed against me. With one roll of his hips, I cried out, pulling his head against mine as I breathed out, grasping at him as he began to move.

We were both breathing hard, and as my legs wrapped around him, one of his hands roamed my body, fingers over my skin as he kissed my jaw and nipped at my neck. I arched into him, gasping his name as he did it again and again, tightening my legs around him.

Jamie grabbed at my hip again, holding me against him as he moved faster. I pressed my chest against his, kissing him hungrily after dragging his head back up from my skin. Biting at his lip, I breathed out against his lips. “Don’t be gentle.”

Harsh Gaelic fell from his lips as he slammed against me, pulling my head closer as he pulled me up, kneeling on the bed with me in his lap. I grasped at him, crying out louder as he kissed the side of my lips. Pressing a hand against the small of my back, Jamie’s head dropped down to my chest as he breathed harder.

My toes curled as I grabbed at his hair, shaking as I gasped his name, pressing down against him. His hips jerked upwards as he held me tightly in his arms, wrapping me into his chest as he breathed out and slowed. My head was a little fogged as I tried to catch my breath, sitting in his lap as I touched his hair gently.

Jamie lifted his head and smiled at me, then dropped me back to the bed. I let out a breath and laughed, looking up at him as he touched me, his hands skimming over my body. With one hand he grabbed my chest as the other pulled my thighs open again.

I bit my tongue, my eyes rolling back as he bent down and kissed down the valley of my chest, moving in between my breasts as he lifted my hips up and settled between them again.

“Ye’ are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

I shivered as I pulled him down on top of me, kissing him as I wrapped a leg around his hips. He pressed against me, then rolled forward, both of us stopping to breathe out before he began to move slower this time. Pressing a hand against my stomach, he pushed against me, kissing me slowly and passionately. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding him on top of me as we moved together.

We couldn’t stop touching each other, wrapped so tightly I wasn’t sure where my skin stopped and he began. Even after we were both breathless again, chests against each other, I pressed another kiss to his lips, drawing him back into me. Jamie let out a strangled groan, holding me tightly as he whispered against my lips. “Ye’ may kill me.”

I laughed breathlessly, leg over his hip as we faced each other.

When I finally dropped my head against his collarbone, I swallowed, surrounded by nothing more than the noise of his heart pounding in his chest. I’m sure he could hear mine with his head against my hair, but it was peaceful, it was home.

Jamie kissed my temple, running his fingers through the tangled mess that had become of my hair. I smiled against his skin as he pulled away slightly and bent down to pull some of the blankets back up. I recognized some of them as things I had picked up over the restoration, a soft accent blanket made of fake fur.

He adjusted it carefully around my shoulders and smiled at me, touching my jaw and then touching the tip of my nose with his finger. I smiled up at him, watching Jamie as his eyes flickered over my face.

“What?” I hesitated, watching as he pulled away from me and stood up. He smiled at me, then disappeared outside the room.

Sitting up in the bed, I pulled the blanket closer, pushing my hair back as I heard his footsteps in the hallway coming back towards the room. When he appeared in the doorway, he looked the same as he had left and I gave him a sideways smile.

Jamie stepped forward and then walked around to kneel on the edge of the bed. Holding his hand out, I looked down at a small gold ring, a single pearl set into it.

“I ken I’d like ta’ marry ye’ again, if you’d have me, Willa.”

I looked up at him, covering the ring in his hand with my palm and I wrapped my hand around his. “Yes,” I whispered the word, staring up at him, “Always yes.”

Jamie broke out into a smile, bending down to kiss me passionately. Pulling me up against him, the blanket fell away as we held each other for a moment. Then he picked up my hand and gently slid the ring into place above the original key to Lallybroch that matched his.

We planned on remarrying in the same church in Brockton, and even though it was still an active place of worship, we elected to have a private ceremony with the two of us in the countryside, not too far from Lallybroch. I wore a simple white dress that skimmed the tops of my knees and Jamie dusted off his original Fraser brooch to hold my hands in the cool morning air, whispering vows to me and the wind.

As Lallybroch’s restoration moved forward, so did our eventual learning of the history of Scotland. He was so fluent in Scots Gaelic that the University of the Highlands and Islands in Inverness proper, specifically the Language Sciences Institute, wanted to understand and take note of what could be learned from his knowledge of the language.

What time wasn’t spent split between Lallybroch and Inverness, was spent with Jamie and I curled up in the back study, which was the second room we rushed to rebuild and restore. All the thick, dark wooden bookshelves held so many good memories for him and the promise of more for me. Alongside some of my favorite modern books, historical books that Jamie loved, and more — were the carefully preserved journals of Colum.

Sitting presently at the heart of the shelves was bound proof of our past together — the history of Frasers written by a MacKenzie — preserved for our future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.
> 
> Thank you so, incredibly much to every single one of you who read this story, commented, gave kudos, or sent me a kind word. It's so appreciated and it made me realize just how much I love fandom. I hope this ending will satisfy all of you as much as it did me.
> 
> Thank you all. <3


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